A Place in Our Hearts
1230am, middle of a long weekend. I was taking another route back to Wollongong after a long day in the Sydney suburbs. The Hungry Jacks joint beside the road jolted my memory - that was where Dule first arranged for me to pick him up when we first went out after work. The Cabramatta Golf Club was across diagonally at the set of lights. The surroundings to me were like flat plains, but the Cumnberland Highway was undulating and meandering. These suburbs were like in middle America, but we were far removed from that. Two Olympics ago, through Dule, I had learnt to appreciate life growing up in Sydney's sprawling residential corridors.
I thought that maybe I was in a time warp. A holiday night, and I passed by two sets of police patrols checking for breath analyser tests. Most of the drivers still on the streets were Gen Y. Things have not changed much on such evenings when Dule was still working in Sydney. I saw the miniature Sydney Harbour Bridge facade of an overhead pedestrian bridge and knew instinctively that was my cue to turn right into the road leading to Dule's family home. Dule's Mum cooked up a tasty feast and his Dad is so good to chat with. I am always thrilled to meet Ned, his other, who has a young family of his own. Dule had taught me a route of inner roads to use from my place to his house - and I had absorbed the route to a T.
The winter evening was nippy, but maybe not as cold as where Dule now is, across two oceans and another two continents away. I had talked with Dule about Europe, and he has now totally embraced it. Before, we had drinks in a Croatian or Serbian club or had eatouts in a fast food place. These outlets are still there, catering for another generation. Dule's career propelled him from university in the Big Smoke of Oz to banking and on to London. As I drove past last night the iconic landmarks of his teenage hood and young adult life, I felt both melancholy and pride for him. We who know him miss him, and that means his family, little dog and mates. Yet one cannot but admire Dule's continuing passion for his dreams.
Dule's parents keep a very tidy house and lawn. The full moon is very bright and clear overlooking this neighbourhood. We all ponder of this same moon shining on Dule far away but still in our hearts. And there is Nina to take care of him.
I thought that maybe I was in a time warp. A holiday night, and I passed by two sets of police patrols checking for breath analyser tests. Most of the drivers still on the streets were Gen Y. Things have not changed much on such evenings when Dule was still working in Sydney. I saw the miniature Sydney Harbour Bridge facade of an overhead pedestrian bridge and knew instinctively that was my cue to turn right into the road leading to Dule's family home. Dule's Mum cooked up a tasty feast and his Dad is so good to chat with. I am always thrilled to meet Ned, his other, who has a young family of his own. Dule had taught me a route of inner roads to use from my place to his house - and I had absorbed the route to a T.
The winter evening was nippy, but maybe not as cold as where Dule now is, across two oceans and another two continents away. I had talked with Dule about Europe, and he has now totally embraced it. Before, we had drinks in a Croatian or Serbian club or had eatouts in a fast food place. These outlets are still there, catering for another generation. Dule's career propelled him from university in the Big Smoke of Oz to banking and on to London. As I drove past last night the iconic landmarks of his teenage hood and young adult life, I felt both melancholy and pride for him. We who know him miss him, and that means his family, little dog and mates. Yet one cannot but admire Dule's continuing passion for his dreams.
Dule's parents keep a very tidy house and lawn. The full moon is very bright and clear overlooking this neighbourhood. We all ponder of this same moon shining on Dule far away but still in our hearts. And there is Nina to take care of him.
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