My mother's life in brief
Georgina Bates - 9th March 1918 to 7th June 2007
This is the eulogy that I prepared for Mum's funeral on the 13th June, 2007.
Mum was born in the little Saxon village of Bozeat, in Northamptonshire, about 5 miles from the township of Olney, where the Rev John Newton was parish minister and composed that most famous of hymns, "Amazing Grace".
Mum was part of the second batch of children in a family of 12. Quite a gap separated Jim, Georgina and Alec (the youngest) from the older ones, and they where always known as "the 3 littl'uns".
Mum grew up in those hard times between the two World Wars, the Great Depression starting when she was just 10. She said that despite the hardship they enjoyed a peaceful and unhurried life in those early years. One of her childhood memories was wagging school with all the other kids to tramp the few miles cross-country to Cardington, where the great airship "R101" was being readied for its maiden flight. Her parents woke them the night it sailed so they could watch the great silver airship passing over on its way to France. Sadly it crashed, with many lives lost.
Mum wanted to be a dress-maker, but Bozeat was a centre of the shoe-trade and so into a shoe-factory it was at the age of 14. She got ten shillings for a 48 hour week, with nine going to help support the family.
It will perhaps surprise some to know that women's soccer is not so new. Mum was in the Bozeat girl's soccer team. The Soccer Club from Stantonbury-St.Peters had begun a girls' team, and there was a dance after the match with the Bozeat team.
A message was sent via a friend that a certain young Bozeat lady would like the last waltz with a certain young man from the other club, and that is how Mum a nd Dad met. Romance followed, only to be interrupted by the start of WWII. Dad said she was his greatest trophy! They married simply in 1941 at the ancient Bozeat parish church, and had only a week together before Dad was posted overseas with the British 8th Army. Apart from a few weeks' leave they did not see each other till the war's end.
Mum worked the war years as a bus conductress with London Transport, including the difficult time of the Blitz. It was tough, but she preferred it to the alternative of working in a brush factory.
Reunited after the war they were able to set up home together, in one of many pre-fab houses built especially for ex-servicemen and their families. We kids arrived soon after, with Elizabeth in 1946, Stuart in 1947 and Stephen in 1949. Times were difficult in post-war England, and Dad & Mum wanted a better life for their children than they had had. The decision was made to take up Australia's assisted migration offer, and seek a life in the new country. We sailed in 1954 on the emmigrant ship "SS New Australia" (originally the liner "Monarch of Bermuda", Dad had sailed on it in troopship guise during the war). The one month voyage was a great adventure for us children, and I don't think we realised the enormous upheaval it was for our parents. When we finally arrived in Sydney, at our new "home" (a corrugated iron Quonset hut in a converted army base halfway between Heathcote and Liverpool) I remember Mum burst into tears. Still, we settled in, and got fairly comfortable there, though Mum never did get used to the big spiders!
Dad had to find work quickly, and as soon as we kids were settled into school at the start of 1955, Mum had to find a job too, back in a shoe-factory again! After 3 years they had enough for a deposit on a house, and we moved to 3 Old Farm Rd, Helensburgh. Apparently there was a family phobia about old-fashioned pan-toilets, as we kids asked "Dad, what sort of toilet does it have?". No.3 was one of the few with a flushing toilet, though still 50 feet away at the bottom of the garden. Yes, still plenty of spiders, and poor Mum was struck speechless one dark night. Opening the back door for the venture down the garden path, she came face to face with a large black head! One of the neighbouring cows had got loose! (actually Mum was anything but speechless! My sister reminded me that Mum's screams roused the neighbourhood and stampeded the several cattle that had got into the garden.)
Despite the demands of a working mum, Mum and Dad managed to work in lots of family times together, whether it was a picnic, or reeling with laughter together watching "Telegoons" on TV, or an outing to the movies with dinner after at the "Rawson Fish Cafe" near Central Station. There were holidays too, the first being with borrowed camping gear at Garie Beach, with transportation via the local milkman's truck.
It was always a special time whenever Mum had a day off. It was so good just having her there, and I loved to help in the old and cosy kitchen, making pastry with her.
In 1966 we moved to a new house at Engadine, where Dad and Mum stayed until Dad's retirement in 1979. They then moved to Kiama, where they lived for 23 years (the longest time in one spot as it turns out). About the same time grandchildren began to arrive. First Georgina, then Peter and Lucy.
It was in their time at Kiama that Mum's long dormant interest in painting blossomed. I never even knew she was interested! She quickly became very good in oils and watercolours, and at miniatures. She made many friends there, especially among fellow artists. It was while at Kiama that Dad and Mum celebrated both their Golden and Diamond weddings.
Mum's later years saw declining health, and eventually a move back to Sutherland, to be closer to the family. Dad was able to care for Mum at their home in Sutherland for several years, but despite dogged efforts, the time came when his own health failed and full-time care was needed. They never wanted to be parted, but in December 2005 Mum moved into Chesalon Nursing Home at Jannali.
I do thank God that it was so close and an easy drive for Dad. Despite the difficulties inherent in nursing home life Mum kept up her interest in art and reading. I had many precious hours reading to her, including favourite poems, like "The Traveller" and "Crossing the Bar", the 7 Chronicles of Narnia, which she loved, and George Macdonald's wonderful fantasy, "At the Back of the North Wind", which she took to like a sponge to water. Mum also began to write some memoirs of the "long ago days" as she called them. Her memory was remarkable. (You can find some of her memoirs on the Internet at http://tardus.co.nr, or contact me, Stephen, if you want a printed copy)
2007 brought the sad news that Chesalon had to be demolished and rebuilt to meet current government regulations. We were able get Mum a place at "Hillcrest" at Oatley, and thankful again that it was not too far, but Dad and Mum were more separated now, with only a couple of visits a week possible. While at Hillcrest, granddaughter Georgina was able to visit from Queensland with great-grandson Tomy; Mum was so thrilled to see them both!
Towards May Mum had to enter hospital for a week, and though she rallied ("I'm a tough old bird" she used to say) weariness overtook her once back at the home. She was quite alert up to the last few days, though tending to drift off into a doze between lucid times. At last, in the early hours of Thursday 7th June, she drifted quietly away. Our bird has flown at last, and we are left. No doubt we will shed many tears yet, but tears are not wrong. Jesus wept at Lazarus' grave, and we can too. We do not need to sorrow as those who have no hope.
Jesus said ... "I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live" John's Gospel, Chapter 11, verse 25.
by Georgina's son, Stephen
Here is a poem my friend Nesta read at Mum's funeral Insight
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