Mom-Mom's Gone

To know Pauline Collins Duffy was to love her. That's the message that I have reverberating around my head as I try to process that she's passed away and I won't be seeing her again in this lifetime. As I've told friends, and talked with family, it's extraordinary to see the words come up time and again: "she was the best," "everyone loved her," "she'll be missed by so many." I guess that's the way of death; people are memorialized, lionized sometimes, as we find ways to move forward with the new normal. But I can't help thinking that with Mom-Mom, people don't have to reach very deep or try very hard to come up with words of lamentation - she was so deeply lovable. 

I nearly was tapped to write her eulogy and, thank GOODNESS, Uncle Tom swept in and saved me. How could I possibly begin to memorialize this woman who had the tenacity to leave her Independent Young Woman job at the Bell Telephone Company, marry Pop, and raise 8 children?  Who then helped raise generations of Albemarle Avenue children (and a few adults)? Who kept going when her husband died, flourishing with her easy access to the Septa trolley behind her apartment to get her to Silver Sneakers exercise classes, pinochle games, and visits to family? How many more facets of her life that I haven't even known about? No, no, Uncle Tom can have it. But man, I can't help but think about her. 

In Tennessee at the family reunion where she first admitted I was her favorite grandchild

Calls to Mom-Mom always started with her gleeful exclamation of "Katherine Mary!" We'd spend the first and last few minutes of every call trying to not talk over each other, first with the "I've missed you's" and ending with the "I love you's."  Joyful chatter in the middle with updates about family happenings, latest culinary adventures, and smiles you could feel through the phone. She was gracious enough to share her Best-Friend-Since-First-Grade, Mrs. Dunn, with me. A call to Mom-Mom wasn't complete unless I'd gotten the update on Mrs. Dunn's happenings as well. 

In the most personal way, Mom-Mom was my buddy, my pal. She was my roomie down the shore after Pop died. Every year she'd play coy, unsure if she wanted to brave another year of Sea Isle mayhem, but when I'd call and ask her to be my co-pilot on the drive down she'd always say yes. We'd stop into Wawa for hoagies on the drive and she'd sternly tell me to put my money away because it was her treat. We'd take over the twin bedroom and she would overlook my late-night arrivals after a night of beers on the front porch, gently closing the door behind her when she would start her day a few hours later. 

My trip home this summer was filled with so many joyful moments with her. Her health turned two days after I arrived in Philly and she was living with Mom and Dad full time by the time I left in mid-September, so I got more time with her than I had dared hope. I spent the first night with her when she got out of the hospital and all she was worried about was how well I was going to sleep. We stayed up late watching the Phillies and she let me fuss over her more than she would have put up with if I was a Child and not a Grandchild. Her patience for her grandchildren knew no bounds. We got a week in Sea Isle again, our last as roomies, and I got to play Nurse Ratchett (her words), making her take her morning meds, do a daily blood pressure check, and helping her in and out of bed. Resentment-free payback for all those years of waking her up with my drunken late-night arrivals. 

Before leaving the hospital in August

All that extra time that I got to soak up with her, even if a good chunk of it was her telling me to "get out of here and go out and have some fun!" made me think of all those years in Sea Isle as a kid; wet, windy, overcast or sunny, it always "looks like a beach day!" as she would shoo us out for some peace and quiet. Even in the last three months as she declined, I watched her charm the medical staff who would come in to help with her care at Mom and Dad's house. OT, PT, nurses - she met each one with smiles and "how are ya hun" to their delight. In her final weeks when she would sometimes forget where she was or who people are, she'd talk about "those nice girls on the 5th floor" who were taking care of her - no matter that it was Mom, acting as full-time carer - and chat with delight when Mom told her that she, too, had lived on Hazel Avenue and Albemarle Avenue. She was just so busy smiling and loving everyone who came into her orbit that she'd neglect to mention the pain she was in, or to ask for help. A consummate block-head, just like the rest of us. 

I think it's important to mention that I'm Mom-Mom's favorite grandchild. But then, so is every one of her grandchildren. I'm number 1 in her books, but I can't say that I mind sharing that top spot with all my cousins, either. Mom-Mom had enough love to go around to all of us. My God, I will miss her. 

Number 1 Grandkid

Pauline Duffy was a blessing in my life, absolutely and un-reservedly. To have had so many years with her, to get to know her as an adult, to have had the gift of time with her in her final few months, it all feels like such a blessing. I can't regret that she's gone; it's what she wanted, and her pain is over now. But man, how lucky am I to have these memories. I got to see her on video call the week she died and she reminded me that I'm her sweetheart and that she loves me wherever I am, wherever she is. I have always known that my family is extraordinary, but what a stark reminder: she was happy because I am happy. If that's not the ultimate gift of love, I'm not sure what is. 

Stu-ella DeVille

It's hard to believe I've been back in Australia for a month now from my visit home to the States. That trip was wonderful in every way. I got to see heaps of family and friends, watch my brother and sister-in-law Anna get married (along with two other family weddings while I was home), meet two BRAND NEW babies who were kind enough to exit the womb while I was State-side and several more who have come into the world in the three years I was away. I spent time at the shore and in my parents' back yard. Ate cheesesteaks and hoagies and soft pretzels. Friends have gotten married, bought houses, begun new jobs. Family came out of the woodwork to welcome me back for my visit. And I got to soak it all up for 5 glorious weeks of holiday. 

Andrew & Anna's wedding, with Mom, Dad, & Mom-Mom

With my Mama at cousin Hannah's wedding

Scotty, who trained me in how to put up with creepy old dudes at any bar

Beachin' it with Dad

Fam Shore Squad

Birds of a Feather

Tess, the newest member of the Road Fam

Rachael agreed to tourist Philly with me

Meggie's half-marathon. Rachael made the impressive signs.

Baby Peter, my 2nd-youngest new friend

Frannie's wedding

Being back has seemed both very fast and very slow. The first week or so of my return was spent trying to get my bearings. Matty picked me up at the airport, helped me get my room unpacked (a friend had stayed in my house while I was gone, so everything was stored), and then we spent the rest of the day out in his new boat, Blue Jay. I had work the next morning - the Aussie football Grand Final, their Superbowl equivalent - and had a very hard time getting my head in the game. Leaving the States was emotional, and I was jetlagged, and going back to work did not appeal. I only worked a few hours to help the team get through the worst of the rush and then had Sunday off - back out on the boat with Matty and Jess to do some very lazy fishing and sunning.

Perhaps it was the emotional rollercoaster of going back home to the States and then coming back home to Exmouth - and holding both of these places in my heart and head as home at once - or maybe the holiday just helped me realize how I really feel, but I went back to work on Monday feeling very out of sorts. I just did not want to be there and couldn't shake the feeling. I don't like feeling checked out at work, but I just couldn't seem to get my brain to engage enough to get checked in. On Wednesday, I gave my notice. 

I've spent 2 and a half years loving my job and now I just don't anymore. I don't know what I want to do, but I know I don't want to be a bar tender for a little while. I gave 6 weeks notice, and have promised to stick around until after Melbourne Cup, "the horse race that stops the country." It's a huge bar day, so I'll help with that at the start of November and then figure things out from there. I've got some plans for November and December. Lots of camping and visiting with friends both here in Exmouth and down south in Perth, then a big road trip with Jess to her hometown in Victoria. She's also given her notice at the Pub and will finish up two weeks after me, but she's leaving Exmouth to move back east. I'll go along for the drive and finally get to see some more of Australia than just WA! I'll spend Christmas out east and then come back to Exy in the new year. Beyond that, I'm winging it. So here's to new adventures!

I felt a huge relief once my notice was given at the Pub, and I'm currently 3 weeks down, 3 to go. Life hasn't stopped though. Last weekend was the annual Exmouth Wholesalers Golf Tournament and we had a costume contest to win! Channy is currently away on a Central/South American adventure, so Mia, Stewie, and I recruited another worker at the Pub, Sophie, to our team. This year's theme: Stu-ella DeVille and his Dalmatians!

We won!

Stewie said it only took him about a half hour to wash the black dye out of his hair, so we'll chalk that up as a second win for the day. 

Gaia and I spent yesterday afternoon at the beach having a good long catch up and then went back to her house where Rhys had a roast in the oven waiting for us. Even amidst all this self-inflicted change and confusion, it is wonderful to have friends in my life. I am so very, very lucky.