Heavenly Beverley : Tribes

My brother Michael's partner, Jenny, died on Sunday night. When I woke on Monday morning, I had a distinct impression that all was not well in the universe. So I rang him. Sure enough, she had gone, flying free somewhere in the cosmos.

The cogs in my head began turning. I wanted, I needed to go to Jenny's funeral. I longed to be with my brother once more. And I hoped to mend some family fences. Regardless of who said what a lifetime ago in Melbourne, I had not behaved well. I allowed angst and despair to get under my skin. I resolved to apologise to Michael's children, whom I had insulted on one awful day. I was old enough to know better and that was my responsibility. How I would be received was in the lap of the Gods.

Today was Jenny's funeral. We have been in Queensland for two days. We flew into Cairns on Wednesday afternoon. We had secured a bed at Kev and Kerri's digs and gratefully slept. Kerri is one of Michael's oldest friends and an extraordinary woman. An acupuncturist by profession, she is one of those wise women whom I am honoured to know. Kev's pretty special too, cooking a splendid dinner and taking care of us after Kerri left for her clinic.

In our brief stay with them, we talked about tribes. Our families are our first social environments, our tribes, and need to be nurtured, even fought for, in order to keep these relationships alive. Families are often difficult beings. But they are also important to establish and maintain our sense of self. Kev and Kerri have had a wonderful partnership for sixteen years. Kerri's family were a vital part of herself and she encouraged Kev to address his distant relationship with his children. These days, Kev is in close contact with his children and grandchildren. He is forever grateful to Kerri for this change in his own family dynamics.

We drove to Cooktown yesterday. The inland route is diverse and spectacular at times. Up over the Kuranda range, into the savannah country and through the Great Dividing Range passes. We stopped at Mount Molloy and Palmer River, the latter being the gateway to the historic gold rush area. On past the amazing spectacle of Black Mountain and into Cooktown.

We arrived in the mid-afternoon. Our holiday unit was tucked into the base of Grassy Hill. Beautiful location and very quiet. We had dinner at the Sovereign Hotel and an early night.

This morning, I sat at the table of our little unit, beginning to write this post. Tropical rain was falling once more. Shortly afterwards, we left for Jenny's funeral at the Botanic Gardens. And I was seriously apprehensive.

What followed was a combination of a tragedy and a comedy. A number of guests, including Michael's youngest daughter Rebekah, her former partner Byron and children, were running late. Michael waited for the delivery of flowers at one entry to the Botanic Gardens, whilst they were delivered via another. The weather was pretty torrid as well, hot with intense humidity.

Kym, the local funeral director, led a beautiful ceremony and a celebration of Jenny's life. From Brisbane girl and budding ballerina to secretarial school, marriage and two children. As a sunburnt twenty-three-year-old escapee to North Queensland, she met my twenty-one-year-old brother Michael at a party in Julatten. She wasn't impressed. Eventually, she softened and they experienced an amazing life together. One of her many roles was as a cook out at the mines. She also raised cattle. They lived in Julatten in the Atherton on and off for many years, with no running water or electricity. She developed a very green thumb and created beauty around them, as well as aiming for self-sufficiency.

After their move to Cooktown, they lived in a restored shed whilst they built their house. Their property on the Endeavour River was chosen for its wonderful soil. Jenny worked the land, with a large vegetable patch, chooks and a display of the tropical gardens she loved. She and Michael then helped Rebekah raise her daughter Kate. Trained as a florist and looking for work, Jenny secured a position in the garden department of the Cooktown Hardware. She remained in that role until becoming very ill with terminal cancer just over a year ago.

After being airlifted to Cairns, she fought for her life with every fibre in her being. Chemotherapy in Cairns was followed by further treatment in Melbourne. She gained a precious thirteen months to her life, never mentioning the physical and emotional toll of the treatments on her body.

I believe my brother remained the love of her life. She was certainly his. Although circumstances separated them at times, particularly at the end of her life, they remained true to each other. And those enormously important thirteen months gave all her children and friends grace to be with her.

Kym, Karlee and Hannah gave her a sweet and beautiful send-off. Her beloved grandchildren released balloons and messages (biodegradable of course). Michael read the 23rd Psalm. His raw grief moved me to tears. Closest friends Rick and Hazel paid tribute to Jenny. I read my brief eulogy and public apology.

Karlee, Rebekah and Emily were particularly thoughtful. Hannah was understandably neutral and Nathan and I kept our distance from each other. Did I do enough to repair the damage done in Melbourne? I honestly don't know. But I have given it my best shot.

Fly free, Jenny. Know that you are so loved. And hopefully, your and my tribes can be unified.