My mother, Edwina, 15/03/1953 – 07/06/1994.

Lillian calls her Nanna Weenie and we talk about her and look at photos. She says out of the blue sometimes, “Your mummy died” or asks me why, and I try and come up with a simple explanation that won’t worry or scare her. I’ve told her she was very very sick. That the sickness was called cancer and that sometimes people can get better from it and sometimes they can’t. That she’s no longer here but we still remember her.

I will be thinking of her next weekend when we visit Western Plains Zoo, a place we went on our last family holiday the April before she died. How it was freezing cold and windy and we had to buy zoo jumpers from the gift shop to keep warm. How my Dad pushed her around in the wheelchair while my brother and I rode bikes. How she put on a strong face for us even while she must have been feeling awful.

(An earlier Western Plains Zoo visit.)
I’ve now lived longer without her than with her and I don’t know what life would be like if she was still here, but I know she would have loved this little girl and I tell her that too.
