If you’d seen it you’d remember the little blue house, the one just up from the corner of the street. You’d know it by the white picket fence the wrap around verandah and the wee blue hatchback parked in front of the garage. That’s it! The one with the Aussie flag hung from it’s aerial!
But then again maybe you wouldn’t remember… there could be any number of houses like that on the plateau… it isn’t exactly remarkable. But if I mention the stained glass witches guarding the garage, or the dragons along the porch, the gnomes and the goblins, the thunderbox bedecked with redback spiders and the sputtering water features maybe you’d have noticed.
You could have spent hours stopped and staring if the house had caught your eye as you walked past; and every time you stopped you’d see something you missed the time before, or something newly created and installed. It was just that kind of house.
It was just that kind of house because it had just that kind of owner. You probably wouldn’t even notice her if you saw her at the supermarket. She was pocket sized, a little wheezy, greyed around the edges. But if she opened her mouth you’d remember her. She’s just that kind of woman. A ‘true blue’ Aussie who smoked like a chimney and swore like a sailor, and truth to tell wasn’t afraid of the occasional drink or two either.
She was colourful. Funny as a fight who’d just as likely express her appreciation for you by telling you to “Fuck Off” as give you a hug. More likely, truth to tell.
I could write a 1000 words and still not sum her up. But she loved her kids, and her grandkids, and her kid’s friends (me) and she made her peace with God without losing any of the things about her that made her so unique.
She would sit in church and quietly mock the pastor and the trappings of the church but she never mocked God, keeping her bargain with him right up till the last. And I just know the two of them are sitting up in heaven having a glass of wine and a fag and she’s bending his ear about her kids, and about her grandkids. She always did bend his ear about them. She’s not about to stop now.
You may not remember the old lady who lived in that blue house near the corner of the street. The crazy house with that wild, crazy ornamented garden but I will. I’m glad I knew her, glad I ate from her barbeque, glad I laughed with her and her kids and glad that I could call her ‘Trouble’. She was that for sure, but she was also my best mate’s mum. And all of us who knew her are going to miss her something fierce.
We’ll have a drink or two for you on Friday Helen, and many more to come, I’m sure.
Thanks for the memories.
Godspeed.
I’m sorry she’s gone, but I love the way you remembered her.
xxx