Band of Four

* tissue alert Alarna

 I spoke the other day about Mum's three best friends.  I seem to be constantly thinking about Mum lately.  Maybe it is writing this blog daily that triggers many memories of Mum.  I think a lot too about what she would have thought about our move. I wish I could ask her advice.  I'm pretty sure what she would say, but it would be great to hear it. Maybe if I listen more closely.

Anyway about those girls, they were always The Girls to each other, always girls. Lorraine, Faye, Shirley and Mum, Minnie.  Typical names of their era and typical of the kind of ordinary small town working mothers. But truly remarkable in their own way, each one of them.

They probably all knew each other previous to working together, such was the community of our home town in the 60s.  That was when Mum went back to work and when to a certain extent, her independance  strengthened.  I reckon Dad would agree with me, Mum was never a dependant person, she rowed her own boat and stood firm on her own set of values and attitudes. However she must have relished being more financially independant of the household only budget. With six children, I reckon Dad was pleased about that as well, the extra money must have seemed God sent. The added bonus of course, was her life long friendship with The Girls.

Between them these mothers had 17, or is it 18, children. Shirley, who I believe was the youngest, had two children - sign of the times with a changing attitude and  contraception probably. So they all had their plates full already with all those kids.  They were all good cooks, who was the best is still being debated; they all supported their husbands in their given fields, cared for elderly parents and they all made real time for each other.

Mum worked mostly night shift in later years, as I think Lorraine did as well. Mum used to  come home from work and sleep until noon. Then she would do her jobs and go into town.  We lived 5 miles out of town  on a small farm, a hobby farm it would be called now.  I reckon most days she would visit one or other of her friends. 

Every now and then her little white Torana would be waiting at school to collect me. I used to love that, no bus home plus it meant we were going somewhere together. I can't remember ever being bored or disappointed if that was to visit one of The Girls.

Those four ladies supported each other through illness, death, marriages, births of grandchildren, arguments with their husbands, trouble at work and I imagine the trials that come with all those kids. They used to laugh, cry and get angry together. They never had to ring or text before hand; they knew each others routines and they knew that all they had to do was turn up and the kettle would be put on.  Jobs  would be put to one side and total concentration given. No beeping mobile to distract them, no TV blaring in the background, just the beautiful art of friendship.

Those Girls were fabulous women, strong hard working women, loving family women but my godness they could be devils.  I can remember heaps of stories about them that I don't think are approrpiate for here. Let's just say they had fabulous senses of humour.  As I sit here I can picture each one of them, their faces crinkled, heads thrown back laughing uproariously  at something one of the others had said.

Like the time they were all taking Mum taking ouf to lunch on her birthday and Mum asked Faye if she could possibly borrow a pair of pants as she had fogotten to put hers on. Now my mother was an impeccable dresser - hat, jacket and gloves always matched, lippy always on.  And there she sat in her lovely Fletcher Jones kilt with matching tweed jacket and thistle pin, without her knickers on! Of course when Mum passed away, all these funny stories came out.

The Girls all came out to the farm together when Mum died,  that memory is just so vivid.  Mum had made plans and had completed little jobs before she became ill.  One of those tasks was to choose a piece of jewellery for each of her friends. She wrote a little note and put either a favourite brooch or necklace in a box for each Girl.  When my sisters gave them Mum's gift, we were all huddled in the bathroom (don't ask me why, except to say it was just off the kitchen), they said "oh Min, that's just like you!"

Each friend had a specific role in the group. Lorraine probably held the role of spiritual counsellor.  I know she served that role to me after Mum had a heart attack and I went to her for counsel. I asked Lorraine how I would ever cope if I lost my mother. She said, "When you need it, Kathy, God will give you the strength you need." And thank goodness, He did, because I certainly needed it.  Wise, wise women, all of them.

Last year at the local Christmas Parade, I ran into Shirley. I have to say it was nearly as good as if it were Mum. She was so happy to see me and my word I was happy to see her too, dear thing.  Sadly Lorraine passed away not long after Mum and I am not sure about Faye. Like me, Shirley still misses Mum and the other girls.

Those girls remained friends all their lives.  I bet there were times when one or another would hurt or piss them off, but they got over it. Theirs was a honest true friendship and they each treasured it. It was a balanced relationship based on love and respect for the other. 

Mum said to me, more than once, " true friends are like diamonds, precious and rare. Fake friends are like sand, found everywhere. "  The trick is to know the difference and then protect it once you have found it like a precious diamond deserves.

Friendship

I know that it is not strictly related - but I did say that this blog was about the journey and that includeds all the days along the way that will get us to the destination.

21 years ago I was introduced to a lady, a few years older than I, but in a very similar set of circumstances to me. Well over the years we have both moved, re-married, changed jobs, changed hair, changed outlooks, changed friends. Made each other laugh, made each other cry, cried together, laughed together.   I sometimes wonder what would be different in my life if we had never been introduced and hit it off so well. 

I guess she knows me pretty well, I know her pretty well; we have shared a lot of really good times and a few really shitty times. But you know what I love most about her - she has the biggest heart.  Isn't that a great attribute to admire in your friend - a truly giving big heart.

Well this week, has been pretty rough on me.  I feel terrible, I am aching all over,  I am tired, I am missing Chris and the girls and I am fraught with emotions about leaving work, leaving people, saying goodbye - not to mention all the tasks to complete. It is hard to put into words the confliction I feel ~ so excited about our move but so anxious and worried.  I know it will all be good - God would not have given us this amazing opportunity if it wasn't going to be fantastic. Still....I can't help but be stressed at times.
 
Then this morning the postie arrives with a parcel from my pal. The most wonderful gift. While we were overseas, I kept a daily journal on Facebook with photos so that the folk at home could see what we were seeing in a vicarious kinda way.  I had trouble with my tablet while we were away and it kept typing  the beginning of each word in capital letters . It was very annoying. Put in a few typos (I'm not the worlds best typist) and it made for interesting reading :)
Anyway Christine had copied each entry, minus the capitals, saved each photo and dropped it onto a Word document which she then printed out and gave to Chris and I in a bound booklet - all 67 pages of it. A record of our fabulous time away to look at for years to come.  It will become one of my most treasured items.  To say I was thrilled is the biggest understatement since "Katy Perry sings a good tune"!

I was just blown away by the thoughfulness and love that went into this gift  and I am humbled that anyone would think enough of me/us to do that.

It just reminds me of all the blessings that I have been honoured with and how much I love what we have built together over the last 18 years. I hope and pray that we will make many more wonderful memories together, with our families and friends there to witness and share in the making of them.

 

Family Love, Friend Love - really the most important thing .

 

As Garth Brooks once said, " You really aren't rich until you have something that money cannot buy."

 

My Cup Runneth Over.