Life is a funny old thing. One morning you’re running around Rushcutter’s Bay thinking how good life is and how much you’re looking forward to the weekend. Then that afternoon you’re taking a call from your gorgeous little brother saying that your cherished mother is in hospital and that it’s not looking good. Just when she is starting to recover from the intensity of breast cancer and chemo. An anurism in the brain exploded and there is extensive bleeding. A quick dash home to grab some things and then you’re on the M5. Speeding towards Canberra Hospital with a heavy heart as you make calls to cancel your weekend plans.
Then there are three days of hospital visits. Lightened by the humour of your sibblings but mostly just filled with a dull ache. Holding hands and talking to a body that resembles your Mum. Being strong for your dear old Dad. Then Monday afternoon. A meeting with the neuro-surgeon and head of intensive care. A difficult decision to remove life support. A tear filled family gathering in a small private hospital room as we witness our beloved mother breathe her last breath. A lonely car ride back to the family farm. Then a mushroom omelette with a green salad washed down with a couple of bottles of Veuve thoughtfully procured by my little sisters.Â The only way to farewell such a special lady.
I miss you Mummy, I feel so blessed for the time that we’ve had together. And the only good thing to come out of this, apart from bonding with my Dad and sibblings and getting to know my sisters’ other halves better,Â is that whenever I need an excuse to pull the cork on a bottle of Champagne… I know you’ll be with me…. xx