Project 289 - Day 162 : One Less Candle Burning - Goodbye Auntie Liz (1908- 2009)

It's a very sad day.

My darling Great Aunt Liz passed away today at about 11 a.m.

She was born on May 13, 1908 and outlived her husband by 40 years, with a mix of verve, tenacity, fun, and enjoyment of life. She lived an amazing life, setting up a salon business in the 1930s (doubly impressive given the fact that women didn't usually do that in those days but especially in the midst of the Great Depression!), marrying a man 20 + years older than her that she met on a cruise, mixing with the creme de la creme of Sydney society, living in suburbs like Darling Point and Point Piper.... but most of all being the exotic fun Aunt we'd go to visit in Sydney, far removed from our world up on the far North Coast of NSW.

She was renowned for telling the same stories over and over, especially about life with her beloved George, and her trip through Europe in the early 1950s staying at all the best hotels and buying couture in Paris, but while it may have occasionally got repetitive, what it evidenced was a life lived in a world that she had largely crafted for herself, in an age when women didn't do that. She was more adventurous and daring that I realised when I was younger.

Most of all, though, she was like a second grandmother to me, and where we got to know her best as we grew up was on our special trips to Sydney where Mum & Dad would put us on the Kirklands bus, either alone or with a sibling, for what we felt was an amazingly exotic week in Sydney. We'd get dressed up, she'd take us to lunch at David Jones (high end dept store), to the movies, we'd go shopping for things you simply couldn't buy in Alstonville, and best of all, we'd get to spend time with a woman who knew how to have fun, and laugh.

These are some of the snapshot memories I have of her:

* Dancing in her night dress with my sister and I when I was 13 or so, to disco music in our kitchen on Ballina Road. She even hitched the night dress up so she could dance more freely, and she was in her 70s at the time!! I have this fabulous photo of her with her nightdress hitched up, leaning against the wall, and doing her best disco diva impression.

* Coming back from the City one day and telling the taxi driver to take "Moaning Road" (real name : Mona Road), which started her laughing in that insanely infectious laugh of hers, which naturally, got the rest of us laughing so hard we couldn't barely get the rest of the directions out or get out of the taxi!

* Watching "Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom" and "The Killing Fields" in the early 80s in Sydney, and her response being "Well they were 'interesting' ".

* She wore the brightest-coloured owl-shaped glasses in the 70s and 80s - lurid red, bright green, and shimmering blue. I loved the colours and the exotic look it gave her.

* Running to catch a plane with her on our way to my Granpa's funeral in 1999, when she refused to get a wheelchair and at 91, was limited in her movement to walking with a cane. We made the flight with two minutes to spare! I was stressed out of my brain but impressed that she wanted to do this under hew own steam!

* Trying to explain what a Compact Disc was and eventually giving up!

* Dragging her with her limited mobility to buy some funky stationery at Grace Bros in the 1980s, not realising how far she'd have to walk. She stoically soldiered on across Hyde Park, but kept loudly wondering how far the 'ruddy' shop was.

* Buying me my first proper hair brush - a Mason Pearson from David Jones. It was lovely and I used it for years and years thus confirming her assertion that that sort of quality will always endure. She loved David Jones, even buying all her groceries there.

* Having her confuse Mum and I as brother and sister on a shopping trip to Coles in Edgecliff in 2004 when we were readying her to move to a nursing home in Alstonville, and not having her believe we were mother and son for pretty much the entire outing!

* Taking her to see the first "Lord of the Rings" movie, and laughing at the stunned silence that followed. But she loved the movies and going out and so she came with me and Mum.... that was the year I drove her up for Christmas and we just made it back into Sydney before the bush fires sealed off the highway... and I only stayed awake on the drive up by power-popping marshmallows till we reached the motel in Coffs Harbour on Christmas Eve.

* Taking her to the yacht club at Double Bay, which she loved, and having her forget repeatedly that (a) she'd ordered at all, and (b) what she'd ordered. I have never been so glad to have food turn up in my life!

* Laughing at a joke with her, till it became a giggle, then a guffaw then rolling around on the floor silliness. No one could ever quite remember what we were laughing at!

* Living with her for 3 months in 1989 before I went overseas, and often sitting in her bedroom at night talking to her before I went to watch TV or sleep, and realising that she was very lonely after a life time spent living in the social whirlwind.

* Sitting in her sun room looking out onto people coming and going from the apartment block across the street, listening to her critique how they walked, looked, gestured. She was bitchier than lots of gay men I know, and an absolute riot! I loved those times, rocking back and forth in one of the rocking chairs, watching the sun go down over the glimpses of water we could see between the buildings.

* Waiting an eternity for her to unlock the multiple locks on her door in Eastbourne Road whenever you went to visit (and when you stayed there being afraid you'd never remember which ones to unlock first to let yourself in!), and listening to her complaints about the latest bunch of young troublemakers in the building.

>>> I am sure there is so much more I will remember as time goes by but most of all dear Auntie Liz, I will miss you being a part of my life, laughing till I hurt with you, hearing the story for the 1000th time about the Australian young man you met in France by the side of the road proudly proclaiming "This sir is the Australian flag!" when asked what he was holding, watching you enjoy being with the ones you love, the irrepressible sly glimmer in your eyes that hinted at a more envelope-pushing woman than you might have assumed you were, and most of all, having you as a rich beautiful part of the tapestry that is my life.

You will be missed.

Much love,

Andrew

(Both the photos are taken from Auntie Liz's 100th birthday celebrations in 2008 - the top one is me, my sister Helen and cousin Rebecca around Auntie Liz; the second is the whole extended family in my parents' family room)