The one I never wanted to write

My Mum was a vibrant soul; one of those people who literally lit up any room she entered. She was so full of life, so full of fun – sweeping up people on her way, pulling them in along with her as she went on her way through this life. Even as her illness started to pay a bigger part of her day she was always keen to go out for a lunch or dinner with friends – or organise a get together for a sing song and a few wines. She seemed such an unstoppable force. Mum managed to raise three boisterous boys under the age of 5 – and never looked back from that initial challenge. She was always there for us through the years. She was the glue that bound us together as a family, and later as my brothers married, her net grew to take in her daughter in-laws and her grandchildren as well. Mum had an inherent love of music though the years. She purchased a jukebox after she retired and filled it with all her favourite 45’s. At any time of the day you could hear a big “woomp” as she turned it on – you knew it wouldn’t be long before here favourite music came blaring from the conservatory. Mum and Dads 54 year wedding anniversary fell this month. Their first date all those years ago, from an offer of a ride home from a social, to a date the following week; from small things do great things grow. Dad’s job as a teacher took us over the South Island –from Marlborough to Canterbury. When all three boys had finally arrived on the scene the family started looking further afield – finally settling on a posting to the Cook Islands for two years. In those days it was much harder to Mum to stay in touch with her family in New Zealand – initially it was tough to be so far away from the people she loved, but Mum rallied and starting playing Netball with the local girls – even staying to have a drink or two after the game to ensure she fitted in – and was immediately adopted as a result. Our family time there was filled with wonder and joy – our connection to Aitutaki remains to this day. Upon returning to New Zealand we eventually settled in Dunedin – which has since become our families cornerstone; Mum helped Dad in the office in his first school in Mosgiel, before joining him at Brockville school, where they both stayed until Dad retired in 1996. In their retirement Dad shared Mum’s love of travel. While I’m sure Dad might have liked to spend more time around the house, Mums preferred to spend more time visiting friends in Australia, as well as making new friends on the increasingly frequent sea cruises they took together. Later they embarked on a longer journey to Europe and Great Britain where Mum used her amateur genealogy hobby to look into her past and discover new friends along the way. Mum was raised in a small town on the West Coast of the South Island, called Westport. She had one younger sister Julie. Life was tougher in those days. While her mother Lily was recovering from serious surgery, Mum was tasked to look after the cooking, cleaning and running the household. During that time she found it difficult to balance her school and home commitments, but she maintained long-term friendships and interests from her school days, and always emphasised the importance of a good education to us all. Through the years Mum has been the cord that has wound and intertwined through our lives. Her love of life has steadied us when our own lives haven’t always seemed so bright, and her pragmatism has been instilled in us all. A strong feeling of family runs through us – a testament to her influence and positivity. Even at the end, when she was taken to the hospice, she was joking with her doctors and caregivers – sure that her visit would be a respite visit only, and she would soon be back at home telling Dad to hurry up and get her a cup of tea. Unfortunately this was not to be. Mum passed away peacefully last Thursday after an epic battle with her nine-year illness. At times like this – in the midst of so much loss - I think its important to say that although she may not be with with us in person today, in so many ways she hasn’t really left us at all. I’m certain there will be times we will feel her presence even though she may not be there - We will hear her words even if she is no longer there to say them. Her friends and family will tell stories of fun times and journeys past – and through all this abundance of love Mum will live on through us all. Because; while we remain in peoples‘ memories and thoughts, we never truly fade away. So please tell her stories, and laugh out loud (or cry if you need to). Just be happy that our worlds touched each other’s. Celebrate it all – good and bad – Mum wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.