Anna Coldebella (1925-2018) surrounded by her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. By John Coldebella
MY MOTHER lived to the age of 93. At the time of her death, I didn't have it in me to write or deliver her eulogy and it is not my intention to do so now. What prompts me to speak of her is something she said some months before she died, and with Mother's Day almost upon us, now might be as good a time as any to share it with the Post readership.
She declared that there were two stories about her that she deemed worth telling once she was gone. Neither of them relate to her recollections of the nightmare years of the European 1920s, `30s or `40s, nor of the `50s when she left her home and family to come to Australia, and she had no shortage of memories of those times, many of which she shared with me. I can appreciate her choice.
MY MOTHER lived to the age of 93. At the time of her death, I didn't have it in me to write or deliver her eulogy and it is not my intention to do so now. What prompts me to speak of her is something she said some months before she died, and with Mother's Day almost upon us, now might be as good a time as any to share it with the Post readership.
She declared that there were two stories about her that she deemed worth telling once she was gone. Neither of them relate to her recollections of the nightmare years of the European 1920s, `30s or `40s, nor of the `50s when she left her home and family to come to Australia, and she had no shortage of memories of those times, many of which she shared with me. I can appreciate her choice.
Leone and Anna Coldebella with their first child, Kilcunda, 1952. The first was one that amused her immensely and made her laugh every time she told it. The story involved her Reed Crescent neighbour of 55 years, Mona, who had a visit from one of her friends. “I saw Anna walking up the hill on Billson Street,” said the friend. “That couldn't have been Anna,” Mona replied. “She doesn't walk, she only runs.”
A fairly good summary of my mother and a good example of British wit on Mona's part.
The second one also amused her but it came more under the category of the quirkiness of life. While walking through a local supermarket aisle, she came across a pram containing a crying baby whose parents were getting items from the shelf. My mother stopped and began to console the infant, giving assurance that the parents would soon return their attention to her. The parents turned around, and my mother was surprised to see her grandson. He had been travelling overseas for some time during which he met a woman, married her, and had a child. They had returned to Australia a couple of days prior. My mother had been talking to her first great-grandchild. Many more would follow, each one bringing her joy.
Happy Mother's Day to all the mums out there.
A fairly good summary of my mother and a good example of British wit on Mona's part.
The second one also amused her but it came more under the category of the quirkiness of life. While walking through a local supermarket aisle, she came across a pram containing a crying baby whose parents were getting items from the shelf. My mother stopped and began to console the infant, giving assurance that the parents would soon return their attention to her. The parents turned around, and my mother was surprised to see her grandson. He had been travelling overseas for some time during which he met a woman, married her, and had a child. They had returned to Australia a couple of days prior. My mother had been talking to her first great-grandchild. Many more would follow, each one bringing her joy.
Happy Mother's Day to all the mums out there.