A Tribute to Judy, with Love.

For Sandra, Michael and Darryl.

Judy was my mother-in-law. She died between three and half past three this morning. We were en route from Beverley. Darryl was part of a major reorganisation to get him on the morning chopper from offshore. Sandra was with Judy when she died in a brand spanking new room in the new Midland Hospital. She would have seen the irony.

We saw her about thirty minutes later. She looked beautiful. All her wrinkles had been smoothed out and her face was utterly relaxed like a sleeping baby. We took it in turns to hold her hand. Michael sat next to her and stroked her hair. She was still warm and soft. 

Judy had fought to stay alive for as long as possible. Secondary cancer riddled her body, but all she was frightened of was dying in pain.  Fortunately, her wish came true in the end. In the ambulance, she had an episode (heart attack?) and lapsed into unconsciousness. She knew nothing of her final time on earth. We hope she will carry the love that surrounded her in that dark little hospital room when she goes wherever we go.

Judy lived life to the full. She was feisty, opinionated, fearless, contrary and stubborn. She stuck to her guns, no matter what. She and Lucky adored each other. Why else would you live with someone for sixty years? They used to bicker frequently, openly, hilariously in front of anyone. Michael once remarked that they should behave, children, or go outside. They cheerfully ignored him.

I knew her for six years. And I loved her. But don't me wrong, she could be scathing and arbitrary in her criticism. I was on the receiving end of her tongue on a few occasions. Our relationship changed for the better when Michael and I married.  She was no fool and was able to recognise my unconditional love for her eldest son.

We dropped in on them on our way home from the Big Smoke a few weeks ago. She was at her inimitable best. She was still able to move around, albeit with breathlessness as her constant companion. Her sense of humour was as razor sharp as ever. 

Yesterday was supposed to be attending her usual hair appointment. As Lucky had been admitted to Murdoch Hospital for back surgery, Sandra couldn't take her, so they cancelled. She had been planning to have tonight at home in Stoneville on her own, insisting she could manage. Such was her courage.

Sandra helped her with her evening routine last night. She went to bed with coughing at about eight thirty. That eased at ten and Sandra went to bed. She woke Sandra with her bell, breathless, uncomfortable and in pain. Judy was unafraid of death; she was seeking it. She just hated the pain.

The ambulance arrived. The ambos spent time with her, monitoring her at home before they loaded her into the back of the vehicle. Sandra went to her home to try and find a copy of Judy's living will as she did not wish to be resuscitated. In the end, Sandra didn't need the document. Her spirit had flown whilst she was on the way to Emergency.

And so Sandra, Michael and I ended up in a room with our beloved mum and mother in law. The new hospital presented all sorts of wry difficulties as it has only been open for three days. We needed an escort from Emergency to the ward. The staff didn't know when the cafe opened. Nobody could tell us if we needed to pay for parking. We were quite disorientated having travelled through the bowels of the hospital at three o'clock in the morning.

We considered taking Judy with us for breakfast at Dome. Our senses of humour became quirkier. and quirkier Such is the nature of death.

Sandra was on her phone constantly, remarkably as she had slept very little. We drove with her to visit Lucky at Murdoch after we'd eaten. He was as high as a kite after his surgery, probably a good thing, considering the news we had to tell him. After a quick expletive, he was stoic. Like us, he was relieved her suffering was over.

We stayed with him for a couple of hours. By ten o'clock, we were all exhausted. We dropped Sandra back to her car at Midland Hospital and we headed for home. We arrived at midday and almost immediately fell into bed.

We woke after four. At least we felt human again. I felt a need to write this post. I wanted to honour Judy whilst my memories were still fresh.

I expect there will tears, laughter, intense conversation and offbeat humour over the next week or so. We will wait to have Judy's funeral until Lucky is able to attend. I hope her funeral will be a blast of love and sharing and respect.

Vale Judy. Love from Kate.

My favourite photo of Judy and Lucky on our wedding day.