I Am a Part of All That I Have Met…

After mum’s funeral, a few friends who weren’t there asked if they could read my tribute to her. I amazingly read through this all without cracking once. Afterwards, in the car, one of my sisters said to my other sister, “You spoke really well….” And left it hanging, unkindly. Nick (not Bollinger) in the backseat with me chimed in, “And you spoke beautifully, babe.” Grief pushes and reveals all sorts of odd, ugly family dynamics to the fore, as I discovered in the final five months of mum’s life. Not only did I learn a lot about the people around me, I learned a lot about myself. The day after the funeral, I said to my dear friend Lynley who had come up from Dunedin to be with me, “I like myself a lot more after all of this.” She cried. And so did I.

A few days after, she reminded me. “Dass, remember when you said you liked yourself a lot more?”

And I didn’t remember. She told me to write it down so I wouldn’t forget.

This thing that I wrote for mum, it was written in such haste. I had no time to write anything because I was constantly making cups of tea and hosting well-meaning people, let alone single-handedly organising the entire funeral on my own (and I’m the youngest out of four daughters). I’ll never forget sitting down at a meeting with some official or other, and them saying to me, “So, who is your mother’s enduring power of attorney?” And I had to say, “Look, to be honest with you, I have no idea what that even is.” I certainly learned a lot in that short space of time…

Two days after her funeral, we scattered her ashes. I held the box in the car. It was surprisingly heavy. How odd, I thought, that just days ago, my mother was warm, living and breathing flesh and blood. And now here she is, reduced to a pile of dust in a box. And when we were scattering, it took ages, and it got under my fingernails.

“I chose this poem by Kapka Kassabova because it spoke to me of mum’s astonishingly unbreakable spirit. Mum was a beautiful, kind, graceful and loving lady with the most amazing, musical laugh. When she laughed, it really brightened the room.

She has been an immense inspiration to me, and how I relate to people and how I relate to the world around me.

Mum had a gorgeous way of being able to relate to anyone, and within our family, she had her own very special, unique connection to each family member. She was a great peacemaker, she was the glue of our family. We all gravitated to her, because of her warm, radiant glow.

Mum had an amazing strength of character. She was a very strong-willed woman, but in a very, very quiet and graceful way. This was apparent from all the many beautiful unseen gestures of kindness as well as the grander gestures. She was also very fair.

There was always music in the house. Mum was always singing. She loved gorgeous Indian music as well as pop music and whenever I heard her singing, it was the most reassuring sound I could imagine. Perhaps that’s where my love of music comes from.

I have so many memories of mum, and a lot of them revolve around food. People were attracted to her, she was so alluring and charming and she loved to feed people. She loved to nourish their souls with food.

I remember the birthday parties mum used to put on for me when I was a child. They were the most elaborate and inventive spreads. I mean, we’re not talking about just the standard fare of Alison Holst’s sausage rolls! Mum’s food was seasoned with love.

All the kids from school used to come to my birthday parties, even my teacher came once. I remember thinking, ‘gee whizz, I’ve got lots of friends, I must be really popular. Then I realised they were coming for mum! They wanted to be nourished by her and to be a part of the parties she put on.

Another time, I remember at school we had an international cuisine day. Parents picked a cuisine each and took a group of kids into their home to run a cooking class – there was Italian, French, Chinese – I got put in the New Zealand group and we made Sante biscuits, and remember thinking, gee that’s boring.

Mum had a group over to our place and took the Indian cooking class. Afterwards, all the kids came up to me at school and said, “Wow, we went to your place, your mum”s so glamorous and she let us dangle our legs in your swimming pool.” They were so excited and happy. And these are the kids who used to pull my hair!

We lived next to the primary school. An old school friend said to me the other day, “remember how we used to jump over the school fence at playtime and visit your mum? She was always there with open arms.”

I’m so proud to have her as my mother. Her love will continue to glow like lamplight in me. Go gently mum.”