This exhibition explores the journey of getting old from the time of becoming a widow. My father died in 1992 and from that year on my mother had to live on her own, in the house she shared with my father and the growing family since 1950s. Dealing with loneliness and the grieving process took a long time with frequent visits to Rookwood Cemetery.
My journey began with visiting my mother once a month, staying for the day and then going home. This lasted for a number of years and with other members of the family visiting as best they could with the restraints of work and their own family. However it became apparent that loneliness had set in. The point had been reached where she needed to be in constant care and suitable retirement guest facility was provided. Her constant need was to be visited by her family.
I took it upon myself to visit her more frequently and it became a weekly journey on a Saturday or Sunday. A visit to the local shop to buy some wine for her became part of the ritual of visiting. In this ritual she came with me and I soon discovered she had liking for a bottle of beer to drink after her lunch. This lasted some time until I decided it would be better to take her out for a drive and we could have lunch at different places. Finding a suitable place to drive to became an adventure of exploration. No plan was in place just a feeling on occasions that I should take this turn in the road and find where it might lead us to. It was in this vein that one day I took a turn and continued for an hour and checking sign posts to let me know where we may be going. Finally we ended up at Cronulla Mall. There we had lunch, mamma with a hamburger and chips and her bottle of beer. The beer symbolised the connection with the past as both my mother and father liked to have a drink at lunch when out for the day. Going to Cronulla became the starting area for more adventures to Wanda Beach and Kurnell. The kiosk at Wanda Beach became a favourite place so much so that as soon as I parked the car and my mother struggled with her walker towards the kiosk, the young girl serving would have our order of hamburger and chips already started. The beer was an essential part of the lunch. One time the beer wasn’t visible and I had an old lifeguard ask if she had forgotten her beer.
Towards the end it was not possible for her to walk and so we stayed in the facility and as time progressed she needed help to feed her. This became another ritual for me to accomplish on my visits.
She died in March 2008.
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