‘Oh, laugh all you want. It turned out to be the most romantic thing that ever happened to me. A gentleman in a pinstriped suit and top hat held out his hand and pulled me up. Six months later he put a ring on that same hand. As Phyllie used to say to me, “Never underestimate what shit might bring.” She was right. Over sixty years of marriage, that’s what it brought. If Byron hadn’t died last year, we’d be celebrating our sixty-fifth in a couple of weeks.’
Nat joined them, coming over to hug Verna. ‘I bet you’re missing Phyllie.’
Verna squeezed Nat’s arm as she pulled out of the embrace. ‘More than you’ll ever know. Although I expect you’re finding living in the house on your own very difficult.’
‘No, actually, I love being there. I can feel Phyllie in every room. I can imagine what she’d be saying to me over certain things and how she’d be yelling about others. She would have been yelling today, that’s for sure. Leon’s goat got out again, and I found it in the backyard. But the funny thing was it didn’t eat any of Phyllie’s plants. It stood next to one of her favourites – her prized black prince dahlias, which are in flower – and did nothing. It was almost like it knew she was gone and was mourning her. Leon says I’m crazy, but I think it was.’
Her father clapped his hands together to get everybody’s attention. ‘Come and grab a glass of Prosecco and some food and we’ll begin. As per Phyllie’s instructions we are all to say something about her. If you’ve written it down, you can read it out. The person talking needs to stand at the edge of the lake, so that it’s the backdrop for us to all to look at. She’s left a list of the order she’d like us to talk in.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Not that I’m first on the list, but I will say this about her, she knew her own mind in life, and it appears even more so in death.’
They laughed at his comment, a feeling of joy and celebration in the air, rather than sadness.
Amy spoke first, her arm sporting a purple cast because it was one of Phyllie’s favourite colours. She brought tears to their eyes as she spoke of her great-grandmother and all the wonderful things she had learned from her. She finished with a list of Phyllie’s best advice, the final being, ‘You can only be truly mad at someone you really love.’
‘That’s so true.’ Nat grinned as she looked over to Hannah. ‘Our history confirms we really love each other. Phyllie was a very wise woman.’
‘Phyllie didn’t make that up,’ Amy said. ‘She was quoting Christian Grey’s mum. I think it was her way of telling me I’m ready to watch the Fifty Shades movie.’
Hannah covered her mouth to stop from laughing. She hated to imagine what other conversations Phyllie had had with Amy if this was the type of quote she’d been using. There was no way Amy would be watching Fifty Shades, regardless of anything she wanted to read into Phyllie’s wisdom and advice.
Her father spoke next of what a strong, independent and dedicated woman his mother was. Of how she’d not only stepped in and cared for Hannah and Nat when Carmel died, but she’d been the one thing that saved him from slipping deep into depression. ‘She wouldn’t let me, that was the reality. Said I had a duty to Carmel and the girls to get out of bed each day.’ He smiled. ‘She said I was allowed to wallow in my grief and self-pity only on a Sunday. She came over every Sunday and cleaned the house and made meals for the week, insisting I went out on my own for the day. If Hannah and Nat were home, the three of you often went out for lunch or to the movies together.’
Hannah did remember that. She’d had no idea it was to give her father a break from them and time to grieve.
Verna regaled them with many hilarious stories of mad things Phyllie got up to on holidays, and at the various clubs and associations they belonged to. None of it surprised Hannah, if anything she was just so pleased to hear that Phyllie had had such joy and happiness in her life.
There didn’t seem to be any rationale for the order of their speaking, and Leon spoke briefly after Verna, saying how touched he’d been to be included in today’s celebration and what an inspiring woman Phyllie was. Sue spoke next, praising Phyllie for her acceptance of her into their family and the friendship she’d offered her. Then it was Damien’s turn, and they were all surprised when he revealed something no one knew. He talked about the many phone calls he’d received from Phyllie over the years asking for advice on all sorts of matters. ‘She seemed to think that being a paramedic meant I was qualified for many things that I knew nothing about. I’d get questions about anything from the weather forecast to how to bottle stone fruit to which horse was going to win the fourth race at Caulfield on the weekend.’ He blushed. ‘One day, when I asked her why she rang me with such random questions, she said that on the phone my voice sounded like Frederick’s. She was asking me the questions she’d have asked him, just to hear her husband’s voice.’
Tears ran down Hannah’s cheeks as she listened to Damien. She looked across to Nat, who was also wiping her eyes. There wasn’t a dry eye in the group.
‘When Phyllie told me this was why she rang me, I made sure I always had answers for her. I made some up, or when I was near a computer, I’d quickly google her question to try and sound more informative. Or I’d ask her something that I hoped Frederick might have asked her about her garden or what her plans were for the weekend. We had some very unusual conversations.’ He wiped his eyes. ‘Conversations that I will always treasure and will miss.’
Hannah hadn’t been aware of how much Phyllie still missed her husband. She’d not given much thought to her being a wife and a mother. She was always just Phyllie.
‘That leaves Hannah and me,’ Nat said. ‘Which of us speaks first?’
‘Neither,’ her father said.
Hannah’s head shot up. ‘What, why?’ She’d spent hours poring over the words she hoped would sum up how she felt about her grandmother.
Nat looked as distraught as she felt.
‘She’s left a letter that she would like you to read out before we scatter her ashes.’ He took an envelope from his pocket and held it out to Hannah. It was addressed to her.
Hannah’s fingers trembled as she slid open the seal. She shook out the pages of neatly typed pages and began to read.
My dearest girl,
I’m sorry that you are having to read this letter, especially as you probably spent hours working on the brilliant words you planned to share about what a wonderful grandmother I was. I wish I knew how to use those smiley face things, emojis or something like that Nat calls them, as a laughing one would be very appropriate right now. I shouldn’t make fun, should I? I know that you love to have things in order and planned to the finest detail, and I’ve taken part of that away from you today so that I can talk to you instead. And Nat, don’t think you’re getting away with anything, the second page is for you to read.
Hannah glanced up at Nat, her heart aching as she saw the tears rolling down her face.
I decided a few months ago to write a new letter every month and send it to my lawyer, so that whatever you are reading today is recent and not written years before my death. Funnily enough, while circumstances have changed each month, my underlying message to you hasn’t. You are a wonderful mother, wife, daughter and granddaughter. Don’t ever change, Hannah.