The real question is not whether life exists after death. The real question is whether you are alive before death. Osho Rajne
I’ve woken up this morning and im sitting in the sun soaking my bones in the warmth looking out on to the pryamid shaped Mt Watkins from the harbour of Karitane (the teacher), a small fishing village sheltered along the Otago coasttline. Strong black coffee drip feeds into my slowly waking brain. Honking Geese, returning to Karitane for Summer, pass overhead. In the distance the drone of vehicles heading to work signal folk getting on with life and my mum is dead.
Jennifer Ruth Vidgen, a painters painter, writer, historian, wild black berry picker, wild bull dodger, owner of cars that break down in remote places, adventuer, thinker, unrealistic bussiness dreamer, far seeing futurist, mother, femnist, hero, fool, brillant, emotional, a child of her era, my passionate pal, is dead. Born July 4th (independence day of course) 1939 the year of war. Died November 27th at 12:40pm in peace in her bed at home with loved ones.
I weep not for her. For her last four years have being years of pain and now she free of pain. Free to fly and undertake more wild adventuers. Fly mum fly.
Everything has it cycle, every thing has it time, but your sons and daughter and our dad will miss you. If but for a moment until we catch ourselves looking at one of your paintings, sharing a memory of seaweed on the beach, black berry scones and rich laughter at the end of the winding path with flowers. The you will be with us again.
THANK YOU!! to the wonderful people of Otago Hospice Sue and Robin, to Wendy and Maria and Helen who helped my mum navigate with dignity and as much comfort as could be mustered in the last league of my mum’s life journey. To my sister Rohan who is a star. To Pepper the Cat my mums faithful familar.