Katrina’s Story

It’s been eleven years since my Mum died and that means it’s been eleven years of her missing out on celebrations, milestones and creating memories. She missed me finishing school, moving away from home, obtaining a degree, the birth of my niece and nephew, the death of my nephew and more recently.. moving to Australia with my partner.

It feels uncomfortable to say that I can no longer hear her laugh as easily as I used to. I can no longer remember what her voice sounded like or how warm her hugs were. For many years, I regretted not taking more videos and being reckless in losing those photos I did have once upon a time.

My Mum, Greta Preisler-Weller, had the most compassionate heart I am yet to know of. She was the Mum who always invited the naughty kids over for playdates with me and my siblings, who would sit and have a conversation and hot drink with the homeless and would never hold judgment based on surface value or other people's opinions. She was an activist. She stood for human rights - even at the risk of her own safety. She was creative. Talented. Colourful. She was unwavering in her beliefs and values but did not shout about it. And oh my, did I wish you could all taste her baking. Woahee.

Sometimes, when I’m sitting on the sofa and watching a program she would have enjoyed, for just a second I am teleported back to the countless after-school cuppa dates we’d have, dunking a packet of digestives and non-stop laughing together. To the endless memories of us dancing around the living room to one of her old records, playing pranks on my dad or even the faint vibration of her laugh... I remember it was a beautiful sound. Completely contagious.

For a long time, I was angry at her and at the world. I was angry that she wasn't here to guide me through life's twists and turns and I felt robbed of life lessons that only a mother can share with their child. Why didn't she share them with me sooner? Why didn't she write them down? Why did this happen to me? What did I do to deserve this grief?

But more recently, through my own work as a grief educator, I can see that she does not need to be here physically to teach me and I have found my most profound lessons in my memories, in HER memory. Everything that she was flows into my everyday life and everything that I do, is a result of her presence and absence. Some of the lessons are painful and will continue to be. But some of them are magical and always will be.

My mum's life and death taught me the power of patience, compassion and hope. If every decision you make is born from those three things, you can't lose.

I recently came across something that my mother shared with me. I can't remember why she said this to me or when, in fact I don't even know where the note itself is anymore but I DO remember what it said: "Never give up. Be patient and persistent".

So that's my message for you today.. from her, to me, to you.