This one is for you mum

Hi All,

Yesterday my mother died. She had been a constant reader and commenter on this blog and loved how she was able to get a little bit of us and where we are and what we are doing each and every day. I wanted to share my mum with you all so that you could see a little bit of what formed the words that I type here each day. I won’t do a eulogy, that’s for funerals and this isn’t about her funeral this is about her life and who she was. I am sure that all of my siblings will agree with me when I say that mum was one of a kind and that they broke the mould when she was born. She was an amazing mix of stubborn willpower that steadfastly refused to give in and she always found a way to do what she wanted to do no matter what obstacles were put in here way and through her life she had many obstacles that she had to hurdle. My grandmother was her constant strength and they shared an amazing relationship. When my parents separated my mother took on the role of looking after us and worked in many different jobs to provide for us. We were quite poor monetarily but I cant ever remember feeling poor because mum always found a way to provide what we needed when we needed it. Despite so many problems that she had to put up with from her children she loved each and every one of us unconditionally. She had a fierce loyalty towards us like a tiger with its cubs and would stoically stand up for us even when we really didn’t deserve her praise.

Grandma, Uncle Wally, Uncle Dough and mum. All gone now

Grandad, Uncle Dough, Uncle Wally and Mum in White Gum Valley

My mum was a worker. She worked tirelessly to do so very many things. I loved her steadfast refusal to give in to monetary constraints and how she was always able to make a beautiful garden wherever she was able to put roots down for more than a short time. Cuttings, a seed or two pinched from over someones fence and some lovely trees that she saved up to buy, all tended with loving care and that rewarded her with fruit, vegetables and a simple solace that she was unable to find in the world. Mum was unique. I don’t know that we always appreciated her uniqueness. She would grow and manufacture copious quanitites of jams, pickles, sauces and wine and we would be the dubious recipients of this produce. When I left Albany to move here, I had so many prehistoric jars of green tomato pickle that after collection day, the tip would have been redolent from the scent of it. She worked hard as a shearers cook and raised the money to go to the U.K. which she loved with a passion. She kept in touch with cousins and relatives over there constantly and I dare say her presence will be sorely missed by these long distant people that we hardly know. Mum knitted us all together. My sister, brother and I were like mums jumper project. We didn’t fit very well, she wasn’t too good at knitting collars and a couple of us had sleeves too long or short, but we all fit together, albeit looking a bit strange and our fibres having a bit of static friction occasionally. She held us together with her unconditional love and her steadfast desire to remain constant in our lives.

A rare shot of mum and dad in happier times…

You always had a little garden every place you went and a few potted plants…

Receiving an award for her winning darts team

Mum and my natural nudist tendancies at Caruso beach in Denmark.

I didn’t have a photo of mum with us all so here we all are together at grandmas. Mum and gran were inside having a cuppa and this garden was where we spent so much time learning about all sorts of things and simply being kids. Thankyou for that gran and mum

Mum, now that you are no longer here I truly miss you. I won’t ever be able to ask you little things about our past, about what Grandma and Grandad used to do. Our history just died with you and we can’t sit down over a cup of tea and talk about any of it any more. I am still coming to terms with the fact that I won’t get any more comments of praise for this blog, for our Diplomas and for simply being your children. You loved each and every waif and stray that we brought home and called “partner” and no matter how long they stayed with us, you gave them your loyalty and they became family for that period of time. Some of them you kept in touch with like my brothers ex partner Keren and her new family. You touched so many people with your kindness and you will be remembered by them all. I am a bit shell shocked today. I have to go over to Western Australia sometime next week and say goodbye to my mum for the last time. I can still feel your hard hug when we left and the kiss that you gave me and I can see the look in your eyes, smiling with happiness as you headed off down the driveway with Steve to head back home. You were sitting out on the stonehenge table writing in your diary the morning that you left and we shared a hurried last cuppa and I made you some sandwiches with the home made bread that we made together and some of that lovely roast beef that we had the night before to take on the plane with you.

This photo was taken to send to Steve. I hadn’t even met him yet and we had taken mum out for mothers day. I had the worse tooth abssys in this photo and I remember “rinse your mouth out with salt water”.

I guess no-one is ready to say goodbye to their mum. The person that gave you half of what you are. That gave birth to you and touched you with her spirit and love and gave you the time to grow up and the lessons that you had to learn to become who you are today. Thats why I am writing this post for mum. I wanted to give her that 15 minutes of fame and wanted to put here here for posterity. I wanted people all over the world to be able to see that she meant something to us and that she will always be remembered as our mum and the champion of everything that we did. We could always count on mum being there in our corner no matter what. Now we have to pick our fights ourselves and I know that she will still be in that little corner of our hearts fighting with us. I am truly sorry that I wasn’t a better daughter mum. I didn’t really understand how to be but I know that you loved me and that you were proud of me and in the end, that is worth more to me than anything else. I am proud that I inherited your stubborn refusal to give up. I am proud that you were my mum and I will never ever forget you.

Bezial really loved mum and she thought he was a great dog.

I went to the pantry in shock yesterday. I spent the early evening straightening pillows, making beds, tidying up and not knowing why. I went into the bedroom that you spent that short time sleeping in and smelled and hugged your pillow. I was in the process of automatically making tea and as I collected the remaining ingredients my eyes fell on 4 little bottles and jars of home made preserves that you had pressed into my hand such a short time ago. I picked up the bottle of plum sauce. Here was a prime example of mum’s desire to do what she wanted to do. I couldn’t stand plum sauce and had told her for the best part of 20 years but I kept getting these little bottles of plum sauce turn up on a regular basis “it goes with anything you know…” I picked up the jar of cumquats preserved in brandy. Mum was most proud of these. She came from a time and a place where luxuries were scarce and to be appreciated for what they were. These home grown cumquats preserved in her “medicinal brew” reflected mum sticking it to the world and making her own. “Why buy it when you can make it yourself?”… a small jar of loganberry jam with “Dec.” on the label. She only made it less than a month ago from fruit grown on a vine that she carefully took from the larger vine at the house that she moved from 4 years ago where her beautiful garden had gotten too much and she was only able to take what she was able to grow leaving behind her magnificent deciduous trees that meant so much to her. Lastly a tiny jar of strawberry jam. I picked it up and that is what did me in. I couldn’t help it mum, you grew those strawberries, you shared them growing, pictures of the garden bed that you made and layered and filled. You had so little money but you didn’t let that stop you. Every pension you bought another bag of potting soil, another pine sleeper and slowly but surely your new garden came together. You put me to shame mum. Your tireless ability to tend and grow and always sharing it all with me. That tiny little jar of strawberry jam made with your own hoarded re-used jars and your frugal wartime need to put things up for the future and grown from those strawberries that I had shared with you, albeit long distance, all through the process that it took from plant to jam brought home to me in the most poignant way that my mum was gone. They went from being a few little jars and bottles hastily shoved into the cupboard to being a precious little jars of the essence of my mothers love.

Thankyou all for allowing my mum to get into this post and for sharing a little bit about someone that you may not have even known. I hope that by sharing this little bit about her, that she can be given this special moment with you all. She embraced technology like she embraced everyone that she loved and sometimes with the same results. Here you are mum, this ones for you and though you won’t leave me a comment today, I know that you would have been chuffed to have been woven into this blog and so here you are mum, I love you, I miss you and you will be forever a part of life here on Serendipity Farm.

I won a silver frame a while ago in a readers competition in Better Homes and Gardens. Mum gave me an annual subscription to this magazine and Steve and I both decided to use this photo that we took at Christmas time to get the girls to put some holly leaves in the corners (using photoshop) and send it in the silver frame to mum because we just knew that she would love it. You never got your silver wedgewood frame with us all in it together mum. I sent you all of the other Christmas photos, but not this one. I was saving this one for special and now you won’t ever see it.