Olwyn Celebrated

Last Sunday was the first Mother’s Day since my step-mother (I’ve never liked using this term), died.

Olwyn died last year on her birthday, at the age of 95. She’d invited all the family to help her celebrate her life over a birthday lunch but several days before this anniversary, we got the news that she had suffered massive heart failure and she wasn’t expected to regain consciousness and recover.

We spent the next few days travelling to her town, sitting by her hospital bed, telling stories, singing songs, weeping and laughing.

When Olwyn died, we did what she would have wished—we went to her favourite café and enjoyed a birthday (and death day) lunch.

What made preparing for her funeral so much easier was the way she had prepared for this day in three main ways:

+ For her funeral service she had said, “I want the same songs and readings that we had at Dad’s funeral.”

+ She said she didn’t want a dreary, morbid service but an experience of thanksgiving and celebration.

+ Olwyn had written her Memoirs—the story of her life with the details of her birth, her schooling, her nursing training, the period when she worked as a nurse in India, her return to her homeland, her marriage to Dad which involved taking on three teenagers and more.

Her Memoirs provided all the dates and facts but more than this, Olwyn had stated her honest feelings about her childhood, what motivated her to choose to be a nurse, why she wanted to go to India, her assessment of what she had achieved, how her faith sustained her, all illustrated by photos and lots of hilarious stories.

When Olwyn had presented us with a copy of her Memoirs it gave us loads of opportunities to talk with her about her life. It led to a sister, a brother and I, visiting the remote area in India where she had worked, to see for ourselves. This trip made us realise what a courageous adventurer our mother had been. It heightened our appreciation for the incredible contribution that Olwyn had made to the health and wellbeing of hundreds of people.

When you jot down or speak out the details of your life and why you did what you did, you may recall memories you had forgotten, it may evoke conversations with your loved ones and such words become gifts to those you leave behind.

Image: Olwyn and Lyn at Olwyn’s favourite cafe, a year before Olwyn died.