Mum…
Pocket rocket, our little gurkha – always doing things at a fast pace, because never leave till tomorrow what you can do today. My mum may well have been the living embodiment of ‘live each day to the max’. Until she became infirm two years ago, she used every hour of the day to make a home, create, cook and garden – things that mattered to her and gave her such pleasure…
And even when she became disabled with her sight and her seriously damaged shoulders and knees, she made beds, cooked and cleaned until the very last day of her life. She was quite an inspiration!
Her Amazonian qualities are legend. Pulling up dinghies onto davits. Cleaning out septic tanks by actually being knee deep in the slush and bucketing it out. Catching flounder in the middle of the night, fishing with Dad in their tinnie down the Mercury Passage. Painting houses. And cleaning, always cleaning, because a house that sparkled was implicit to her nature.
Then the intrepid traveller – traipsing over South East Asia, Hong Kong and China annually with Dad, loving her trips to 5 star hotels and shopping so fast that Dad could never keep up with her.
Her friends knew her as loyal and steadfast. She was always ready with cakes, casseroles, love and care should they need it. She never gossiped or said unkind things out side of the family about anyone and she was renowned for being the very model of a glass-half-full person who never ever believed that she was superior to anyone else. If anything, the complete reverse…
She had no self-belief, never ever saw herself as her friends and admirers did – an elegant woman with innate dress sense and natural beauty. She never ever believed she was strong and yet she nursed Dad through a year of bowel cancer and much later through five years of chronic emphysema. After his death, we all worried that the end of such a powerful partnership would crush her. Instead, she learned to take charge of her life and manage, and manage it she did. As well as being an hilarious matriarch who often, through a slip of the tongue, had the family in stitches.
Orford was her ‘healing place’, her most loved place of all, and most of the best memories that we all have of her are situated on the east coast. She was so very grateful that her son bought a half share in the coast house so that she could keep it in the family. And it’s so close to House, that we could be by her side in two minutes on a pushbike.
So conscious was she of the meaning of Orford to her and others, that with no confidence at all she stood up in front of an Appeals Tribunal in a court and explained (no – told) them why they should, on no account, allow developers to build two enormous jetties across a small piece of public river beach. She was impassioned and wonderful. We won the case!
Every one of our friends has commented in the last day about seeing her gardening at Sunways swimming with them all on the Front Beach in a pair of slick, form-fitting red bathers and putting women twenty years younger to shame with her beautiful figure, doing jigsaw after jigsaw at the big dining table and making the best ‘pavs’ in the business.
Even now, our friends talk about her ability to laugh amongst them all and are still in awe that this little old woman would pick up a beer and drink it with the best of them.
She loved her cars – her little brown Ford Prefect, her Renault which consistently broke down on 200 mile trips, always somewhere on a dirt road, and then of course her blue mini and finally her white mini. She drove like the Stig, zapping round everywhere but never ever had a speeding fine which was more by good luck than good management. Driving was freedom and when her sight deteriorated to the point where she knew her road days were numbered, her heart broke just that little bit more, because she hated being reliant on others to get to Orford and back, and she was nothing if not independent.
She loved her family.
Her love for her husband went to infinity and back and her love for her children was prodigious. She would never ever have admitted it out loud but when her son moved back from Sydney a few years ago, it rounded out her life. And to have him living with her was more than she could ask for. She was so proud of his film work – when she found he had filmed in the midst of the Gulf War, jumping borders between countries, she was visibly shocked (it was kept secret till he returned safely). She was terrified when he filmed amongst the Tamil guerillas in Sri Lanka. She hated him hanging out of helicopters to get that remarkable shot and loathed him diving with sharks but she was so proud. And when he bought into a local post-production house as part owner and director, she was content.
When we moved back here from Melbourne, she immediately adopted the role of constant grand-mum rather than just a visiting one – telling the grandkids stories and cooking their favourite foods. She watched me moulding myself into a wife and mum that she could be proud of and always wondered how to explain to her friends that ‘Prue is a writer of some success overseas. It’s a lovely hobby for her.’ (!!!) As for my husband – her words were ‘he is a diamond.’ She adored him.
Her grandchildren were her delights. She needed to know what they were doing and how they were succeeding every day until her illness began to dominate her life and then she relied on them to take her far from her pain. She loved sharing stories and recipes with them and was proud of them beyond belief. But Mum being Mum being Mum, she never bragged or bored people about all of this.
If she has been glad of anything in the last two painfully difficult years of her life, it is that she had her family around her again. She said she was blessed. In the Emergency Triage the other day, she said to me, ‘I just want my family here, not these people’ and in fact, that is what happened. She always had someone with her (and here we all are, still).
She would never consider that she left a legacy for her offspring but she has. To live life to the absolute fullest, to never let things beat you down, to be courageous and stoic and never ever give in.
Everyone who has looked after her in the last two difficult years from the top eye specialist to the carers who showered her every day have made a point of letting the family know what a gentle, sweet, brave and wonderful lady she was and that she would always be remembered by them.
Legacy? Unique?
Oh my gosh, without doubt…
How happy your mother would have been to hear herself written about with such affection and gratitude. You have done her great honor by telling her story with such loving understanding. I am so glad to known her through you, even at such a remove.
Pat, she would have chuckled and wondered how I could so embarrass her! I did so want to honour her to the world and do you know, it was the easiest thing to write ever. It just flowed…
Beautifully expressed, Prue. A remarkable woman who produced a remarkable family and was justifiably love and admired by them and a great many others. May her memory be a blessing.
Rebecca, haven’t you and I been through the mill in the last 12 months? I love your wise words…
Oh, Prue, I am so sorry for your loss. What a beautiful tribute you have written to your lovely mother. Prayers to all of you at this time, and all healing wishes.
Anna, how absolutely lovely of you to get in touch. Thank you so much for your prayers and you healing wishes. It’s tough…
You have written a most beautiful heartfelt tribute. May her legacy live on, and the happy memories help you through the devastating gap left in you life.
My thoughts are with you and your family as you adjust to your loss.
Dear Caro, thank you so much. The gap is unfillable. She is simply an icon of her age.
Oh Prue, I really am so very sorry to hear this. Your mum sounded like a wonderful person. What a legacy she has legacy she has left behind.
Its been a difficult 2 years for mum,and for you and the family, but at least you had that precious two years.
I send you and your family all my love and condolences , I will have you all in my thoughts and prayers
much love my friend
Libby
,
Libby,
Thank you from the heart. As an aside, if I can find a way of keeping the possums away from my climbing roses, I intend to by one in Mum’s honour and plant it in the new garden.
Dear Prue, I feel I know your Mum through this lovely post. Thank you for sharing her life with us. I’m so sorry that she’s gone. Prayers and blessings to you and your family.
Gerry thank you. We used the most beautiful Irish blessing today at the service. I’ll put it up on FB when I have some energy.
Prue, I read this with tears in my eyes. What a beautiful tribute to your mum. She seems such an amazing lady. I know you’ll miss her for the rest of your life, but the wonderful memories will keep you strong. Much love, Siobhan x
Siobhan, thank you so much. Yes, I will miss her. It’s a gaping hole. But memories are started to spring up from nowhere. Grief’s an amazing thing – I wouldn’t have remembered half these super things otherwise.
Such a lovely post. A wonderful tribute to a much-loved mother. RIP Prue’s mum.
Susan, thank you. Much-loved. An icon actually…
I’m so sorry your very special mother has slipped off for a very much needed rest. She clearly was a very bright spark in many people’s lives and as such will live on very fondly in so many memories.
Hugs for you and your family Prue.
Chloe xx
Chloe, thank you so very much. Mum wouldn’t realise it but there is a lot of her in various characters through my books. Probably in Ysabel most directly because Ysabel was so feisty and such a do-er. I’ve really only just thought of that and realise that I was subconsciously channelling her. Hug received…
I also feel I know your Mum from that wonderful piece. I’m sorry for your loss, but she has left you and your family the best kind of legacy. Nothing beats living life to the fullest! And that includes grieving. My thoughts and prayers are with you all.
Lisa, I read yesterday that one can only grieve when one has loved and lost something profound. So very true. Thank you for your thoughts.
She will obviously be missed but I would imagine that every time you polish the sink, she will be there! And every sunset over the waters will remind you of her. Love to all of you, Prue. I would’ve have adored knowing her.
Oh, NB! How she would have fitted in on a Kansas ranch! she would have been cooking up a storm with you and she would have been out there with those cowboys sharing stories and probably cigarettes if any of them smoked.
Oh Prue,
I have just read your beautiful eulogy and my thoughts are with you and your family…
Your mum was a beautiful woman – that much I can tell from the pics you posted – and she was a most remarkable woman – that’s what I can tell from what you wrote about her. Losing her must be very very difficult but at least you know she had a good life and you and your family will have many happy memories…
My heart goes out to you and I send you a big hug from the other side of the world…
Suse xxx
Big hugs received with thanks, Suse. Your words are lovely.
So sorry for your loss. Sounds like she was a wonderful woman and will be sadly missed. Thinking of you xx
Wonderful and unbelievably Amazonian, Kathryn. All from 5 foot nothing of height!
Prue,
What a beautiful tribute. You are blessed to have such a wonderful mother. So sorry for your loss.
Barbara, thank you for your kind thoughts.
Prue, I was saddened to hear of the passing of Auntie Claire. I have many fond memories of her, especially from days at Orford. My thoughts are with you all.
Lynette! How lovely of you to contact me and thank you so much. I remember our times with Aunty Nance, yourself and Greg really well. Was only talking about the houses that all the rellies had the other day – yourselves, Auntie Mill, Auntie June and Uncle Col… They were good times in our childhood! Great memories.