In Loving Memory

Last week Thursday we sat on the floor surrounded by Duplo and watched Tim’s Opa’s funeral, live-streamed from Tasmania. There was a sense of dejavu - his Oma passed away four months earlier. Both left their homes to go to the hospital, both didn’t return. 

Allow me the liberty of romanticising their lives a little. 

I have known Tim’s grandparents for as long as I have been with Tim, which is about 18 years. I’ve always just called them Opa and Oma, in a natural way that I’ve never quite been able to do with Tim’s parents (sorry Carol, maybe one day! 😂) 

Oma was the one who taught me to iron “properly”. She caught me ironing a shirt of Tim’s rather hurriedly on a Sunday morning. “Here, she said”, taking the iron from me, “You do it this way.” She told me her parents had sent her to finishing school even though she would have preferred to pursue further education. I can’t help but think of her each time I iron a shirt. Collar last. Always. 

Opa was quiet, but you’d often find him interacting with his great-grandkids, trying to catch their eye from across the room or playing little games with them, his grin as cheeky as theirs. Tim has lots of memories from when he was little and used to visit his grandparents at their property in Legana. Visits to the cows and goats, cups of tea. Simple times together. 

Thinking back on our times spent together, and hearing their stories from the “old days” when they first immigrated to Tassie, I can see that that the most precious thing they gave us and everyone else was their time. Behind the wardrobes of op-shopped clothes, the conversations about the price of bananas and a glass or three of port, was a deep love for the people who were part of their lives. They adored their grandchildren and used to stay for lengthy amounts of time in WA over the summer. Memorable times.

We will miss them. Losing two grandparents in such a short space of time seems like something you read in stories or hear about happening to “so and so”, but the earthly reality is bittersweet. They leave a rich legacy behind them, and I’m sure we’ll be telling lots of entertaining stories about them for the rest of our earthly lives.