My Mum’s Passing

So… today is a new day. Yesterday after lunch, my mother went to her final resting place.

Twelve months earlier, at the same time, same day and date (just one year apart), my best friend took his last breath. He had people around him celebrating his life, laughing and talking to him as he closed his big eyes while we comforted him and showered him with love.

I wish my mother’s service had been like this.

Where we laughed and told stories.

I’m sorry I wasn’t there, but Jamie and our tribe were. Cousin Deb and Gavin too. My tribe. Our tribe.

Not because I didn’t want to be there, but because I was stopped by “those who shan’t be named.”

Rest in peace, Mum. Go grab your candy cane roses. I’m sure there are many where you are.

Jamie, Brett, Gavin, the kids and I will be placing something at yours and Dad’s resting place.

See you in a few weeks for beers and Hungry Jack’s — just like you wanted. No nonsense, no fluff, no blow-ins.

I’ll read the eulogy I wrote for you. I’m sure you’ll laugh as much as I did when I wrote it.

Yeah, I know.

Today was not you.

But Mum, seriously — you did well not to get up and leave.

I always told you, you had great staying power, didn’t I? The old boy said you could have been in that Energizer ad the way you always had energy.

Hahahaha...

Ahhh, the stories I could have shared…

Like that one time we took my four-wheel drive that had no doors or roof up the hill…

Hahahaha…

So who falls out of it while driving?

Wasn’t me!

Told you to put your seatbelt on!

Hahahaha...

Or that time you went to the shed and all the drums of homebrew Dad and I made decided to explode exactly the moment you shut the gate. You came back swearing, dripping foam and smelling of yeast and hops.

Hahahaha...

Or the time we fronted up to Weight Watchers. We sat there nearly two hours, bored silly, learning nutritional facts and how to eat healthily. Then you signalled me to go outside.

I said, “Thank goodness, let’s go!”

We got in your car and where did you drive?

Canelands roundabout — Hungry Jack’s.

We got three Whoppers (one to take home for Dad) with cheese and extra pickles for you, two Cokes and two large chips, and headed to Queens Park.

You got out of the car with your half-open burger, which you promptly dropped in the grass.

“Leave it, Mum,” I said. “Just eat Dad’s and have my pickles. We’ll either grab another for him on the way home or not tell him.”

“Nope,” you said. “It’s still good. I’ll just brush it off.”

I grabbed it from you and you chased me, but I made the bin way before you. I’m sure you nearly cried when I threw it out.

Hahahaha...

Dad knew we had Hungry Jack’s every Thursday. He reckoned he could smell it when you kissed him when we got home.

Hahahaha...

What about that time you went to grab “the stick” under the washing machine?

Stick?

Nope.

That was a red-belly black snake.

Boy, you could dance!

Hahahaha...

The corn picks with Uncle Frank, Maitland Adrian and the guys. Beer, corn and music. Happy days. We ate more than we picked.

Hahahaha...

Duck kill days with the same people. Remember when I grabbed that duck and it messed all over me? You nearly wet yourself laughing while you hosed me down.

Hahahaha...

Speaking of being messed on… remember the day I was pumping gas at Mobil Marian?

I called you at 6:30 am.

“Muuuuummmmm.”

“Urgh,” you said. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Nooooo,” I whined. “I need another uniform, a couple of towels, clean knickers and socks. NOW!”

You gasped. “Oh my goodness, what happened? Were you robbed again?”

“No, Mum… a cow made a terrible mess on me while I was filling the cattle trucks. I am covered head to toe!”

Then you laughed.

Hahahaha...

And laughed.

Hahahaha...

You arrived with the requested things so I could shower. You brought Dad with you because he wanted to see for himself too.

You both laughed.

And laughed.

Hahahahaha...

I showered and washed my hair. Then my boss Gail arrived.

And you all laughed some more.

Hahahahahaha...

I said, “Gail, I’m going home.”

You said, “You’re not getting in my car,” but I did, and we went home.

You and Dad laughed the whole way.

Hahahahahahaha...

“Is that poo in your ear, Teen?”

“Hey, you’ve got poo under your nose.”

So you both called me “Poohead” for about two months and laughed every time you looked at me.

Hahahaha...

That time you rang me from the hospital to pick you up after your colonoscopy.

“Put a towel on the seat and a pillow. My bottom hurts and I might have an accident.”

So I did

Driving down Bridge Road to go to the chemist for some Imodium, you spotted Domino’s.

“STOP. THE. CAR!”

I safely pulled over.

In your half-anaesthetised state, you went, “Dominoooooos!” out the window. I put my head in my hands and sobbed...

I said, “Mum, behave. Don’t fall out of the car!”

You said, “I want pizza. I’m starving.”

I told you to stay put. I’d run over, order pizzas, run back across the road to the chemist, get your tablets, then run back to the pizza place while you stayed in the car and dozed off.

I came out of the pizza place trying to negotiate traffic on Nebo Road to get to the chemist, and there you were — standing in the middle of the traffic island.

“Muuuuummmm! What are you doing?”

You said, “I have to go potty, so I’m going to the toilets behind the shops.”

I dragged you back to the car, locked you in, picked up the tablets and pizzas, and got back in.

I gave you the two pizzas. You threw one on the back seat and literally shoveled hot pizza into your mouth.

I just sighed and drove on.

Then we got to the City Gate intersection waiting for the lights to turn right onto Walkerston Road. You were still eating, pizza sauce dripping everywhere, staring out the window at the cars beside us.

I said, “Mum, don’t you think you should stop eating?”

You didn’t answer.

I leaned over and turned your head toward me.

You had sauce dripping off your chin, smeared across your glasses and forehead, with the biggest grin on your face.

I was mortified.

I called out, “Sorry, sorry!” to the car beside us and drove off.

You laughed and laughed.

Hahahaha...

You laughed some more.

Hahahahaha...

We got to Marian.

“STOP. THE. CAR!” you yelled.

“What now?”

“STOP THE CAR, I’ve had an accident!”

You hadn’t.

Your can of Coke had tipped over between your legs under the now nearly empty pizza box and your shorts were soaked.

Hahahahaha...

I cleaned you up and tucked you back into your seatbelt, but you wouldn’t let go of the pizza box.

We drove on and I looked at you.

You were sound asleep, head lolled to one side, mouth open, dribbling.

So I just kept driving.

Hahahahaha...

I got you home. Dad came out.

“How did it go?”

I said, “Look for yourself.”

“What on earth?” he said. “Is she drunk? What happened?”

“No, Dad,” I said. “She was hungry and drowsy from the procedure. Just put her to bed. I’ll take some photos.”

Hahahaha...

I’ll add more later. It’s now 1 am and I should try to sleep.

Rest well, Mum. I miss you.

The next few are going to be the ones YOU don’t want people to know about… like the time I gave you a new haircut and makeup and you looked like a movie star gone wrong.

Hahahaha.

Goodnight, Ma.

Hahahaha...