O.C.U.

We have a saying in our family; One Comin' Up.

That saying tracks back to when Mum, Dad & I were travelling around Australia, in one or other of our Holdens (well occasionally a Ford or Valiant, but usually it was a Holden).

Dad was usually driving, with Mum in the passenger seat, and me perched on the armrest between them. Dad would ask for a smoke, and Mum would light it, and hand it to me, and I would pass it to Dad. The signal to let the recipient know that it was time to extend a hand to collect it was "One Comin' Up". After years of this, somehow along the way we started signing correspondence to each other with O.C.U. xxx

Even quick notes reminding someone of a job to do had this tagline.

So I think it's fitting that it should become the title of this post, because Mum passed away on Wednesday, after a brief but hard fight with leukaemia (AML). In honour of Number One Grandma, I'd like to remember her with this poem.

Maggie

Insightful & clever, quick-witted & wise
Her warmth shone out brightly from smoky blue eyes
Face creasing with laughter, she’d soon put you right.
But woe betide you if you woke her at night!

She was quick with a joke to lighten the mood
(even if sometimes those jokes could be lewd).
You could take her your problems. She’d listen and then,
She would offer solutions or her ear to bend.

With a grin and a wink she’d get the job done,
Be it a bowl on the head, or a meeting to run.
She taught us to care about how things were spelled
Her motto was, “Those who don’t know should be telled!”

You’d be in for some hell if ever you were late
Her revenge might include some Lamb’s Fry on your plate.
But her sumptuous dishes were too many to name
And her kick-ass Pavlova put store-bought to shame.

We remember with laughter that cold July night,
When we all played Pontoon til the dawn’s early light.
And how Mum went home tiddly (for one not so young)
Singing “Happy Birthday to You” at the top of her lungs.
Some might be embarrassed; it WAS five a.m.!
But Mum merely hiccupped, “Neighbours? To ‘ell with ‘em!

Sometimes reserved, and sometimes a scamp.
Sometimes demure, and sometimes a vamp.
Very few understood her, she was complex ingrained.
Through our eyes she was lovely, yet she thought herself plain.
But her best attribute was the strength of her love
And we’re blessed beyond measure because she was our Mum.

(Hey Dad... one comin' up.)