I was absolutely delighted with my daughter’s take on my life – sobbed and sobbed as I was reading it. When she posted it on her blog, I dared to reblog it, although I hesitated. It was a lovely stocktake of my 70 years, and a wonderful gift from a daughter who has 2-year-old twins, and a job, and not much spare time to indulge a mother’s bizarre request. Thank you so much Rose.
For her 70th birthday, my mother has asked for her eulogy. Initially my mind flinches from such an enterprise- I don’t want to contemplate her death. But I see some sense in her request, and once I forget what a eulogy is, I get great pleasure from contemplating her life.
My mother in her time has been many things. The first feminist in Broken Hill, the first wearer of miniskirts in Temora. Housewife, separated mother, market gardener, teacher, consultant. Mother of four, sister of two. Photographer, blogger, traveller. It’s a measure of her energy for life that she is 70, and I still expect her to be many more.Last week, she was painting frogs for the first time. They looked like they had been run over by a truck. I can’t think of anybody else who would decide to do this at the age of almost 70.
She sees new…
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