A life well lived

My mum died the other day. I was on holiday in Queensland. The last few weeks have been a turmoil of emotions. Mum was 91. A good innings you could say. I know it was time and it was a ‘life well lived’ but she was my mum and I miss who she was. Not who she became toward the end, that was hard. I miss who she was all my life. 

She was a young mum when she came to Australia with my dad, three children and another on the way. Dad came to work at Monash University and mum looked after the household. A traditional sixties family. Full of dinner parties, Sobranie cigarettes and very dry white wine.

Mum lived her life out loud. 

My memories of childhood come with a sound track. Music was a huge part of our lives. Vinyl records, musicals, dancing to our favourite songs, Saturday night musical games. Mum was one of those people who sings snatches of songs mid conversation. Mum sang while she was busy around the house. She would often have music blaring through the house and always sang along loudly. Her father used to say of her: ‘she has a bell in every tooth.’ 

She liked to drive fast cars and had a lead foot. Family outings were stuffed full of sandwiches, Smith’s crisps, cordial and fun. The beach was a favourite weekend destination in Summer. We visited museums and art galleries while mum and dad filled our heads with information about the various places we visited and the history behind everything. 

Becoming a grandmother at 38, while still having a six year old, was a shock to her system. She loved all the grandchildren, and great grandchildren, as they came along yet she was not very grandmotherly. She wasn’t about to start babysitting or having sleepovers. Instead we would have family bbq’s. Cooking and eating at a bigger and bigger table was a regular event. It was always someone’s birthday. We lacked extended family and I think mum and dad tried to make up for that by pulling us all together around a meal as often as they could. 

After my dad died, she seemed diminished, as if a light had gone out.

Her involvement in the local church as a leader also kept her busy and she became a bit of a legend in the church. The family gatherings became few and far between without dad.

Chadstone shopping centre or lunch in Sassafras were a regular occurrence. Mum liked nothing better than a shopping trip and lunch out. I worked part time and my days off would be commandeered by mum. 

It’s those memories I have front and centre when I think of my mum. Music, laughter, even arguments, our family gatherings and her bone crushing hugs. Mum was a strong independent woman who loved her family fiercely. She didn’t always get it right, like the rest of us, she was making it up as she went along. 

I will miss her always.