Today, I embarked on a journey to uncover details about a somber chapter in my family’s history: the stillbirth of my parents’ child in 1953. Such matters were veiled in silence within our family narrative. When I broached the subject with one of my elder sisters and presented her with the records from the online archives of the NSW Registry of Births, Deaths, and Marriages, her genuine surprise mirrored the shroud of secrecy enveloping this event.
Although the records listed her name as “unnamed,” a pilgrimage to Lismore Lawn Cemetery unveiled her resting place. Joan Kathleen O’Brien, christened after an aunt, was laid to rest on July 10, 1953. Armed with a map, I navigated the East Lismore Cemetery until I located her unmarked grave amidst other infant souls. While devoid of a headstone, a serene tree stood sentinel over her final resting place.
Her burial plot lies in proximity to my paternal grandparents, James and Lena, who passed away in 1944 and 1953, respectively. Discovering a newly adorned headstone at their previously unmarked grave was heartening. I presume it was erected by the descendants of their son Matthew, also known as Robert or Bob, who now rests beside them with his own memorial. Perhaps it is time to honor little Joan with a headstone of her own?
Following my visit to my namesake aunt, the remainder of the day was devoted to work obligations. Despite having managed numerous tasks remotely in recent days, I returned to the office today to attend to essential paperwork and engage in lengthier conversations.
And then tonight I went to the Tropical Fruits Film Festival at the Star Court Theatre. The Star Court was the cinema I used to go to most weeks as a child. Although a few things have changed, it remains relatively unchanged from the early to mid 80s renovation that occured. It was funny to hear the Film Festival spokesperson refer to it as an “old cinema”, as it seemed still modern in comparison with what I remembered as a child.
The films? There were a couple of good short films. My favourites were “Last Call” (about a bloke whose relationship with Mark failed because of his alcohol problem, who wants to get back with him, but who realises things have changed), “Oscars First Kiss” (about a male uni student chatting up a female class mate on a tram, but who ends up with an unexpected same-sex first kiss), and “Hens and Chicks” (about a lesbian couple with an eight year old daughter who need to have “the conversation”). All three were very enjoyable.
Less enjoyable was the longer featured called “Flow Affair”. It’s a fascinating story about “flagging” in the gay and lesbian communities of New York. “Flagging” is an art-form which involves a lot of twirling flags around in dance clubs, pride parades and so on. It’s quite an interesting story. It’s such a shame it was told so badly with almost no narrative evident. The film needed a damn good editor to chop at least 30 minutes out of it and to give it some structure, IMHO. It’s not enough to have a series of vignettes where a group of people keep saying over and over again little more than, “I like flagging. It makes me feel great”. Boring.
The main feature was a film from Romania called “Trip” about a group of twenty-somethings living in a share house of sorts who take drugs, have sex, and generally hang out in a pretty wild post-communist kinda way. It’s a pretty out there film, but I enjoyed it very much.
On the way home I called in to The Civic for a post film drink. It was pretty amusing to see a pretty average working class bar in my home town overtaken by the Sydney and Brisbane gays who’ve arrived for tomorrow night’s New Years Eve Party.
“You planning to have a bet”?, the barmaid asked me as she collected up the TAB information cards. “I think you’re safe to put them away”, I told her with a smile.
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