Julie Helen: Nan died at 96 years young - I treasured her for all of my 39 years

MY lovely Nana Lil, (Julia) O’Leary died peacefully last Wednesday on the first day of May, her favourite month.

During our final meeting the night before she became animated when she realised I was holding her hand. She said we had so many lovely times together and thanked me for them all, and I thanked her in return.

As she held my hand, she swirled her thumb in my palm. I remembered the comfort that small, unseen action brought me over the years.

At seven years of age, I was frightened that if Mum and Dad went out for a night, they might never come back, that something awful might happen to them. Although the intensity of my fear was irrational, that’s the first time I remember Nan’s thumb in my palm, and it swirled there many times since when I was worried or upset.

She never said too much; just gave an instant reminder that she was with me and I was safe.

The final few swirls had come after quite a gap, I last remember them when Granda died in 2005, but those final ones opened a time capsule of beautiful memories.

Nan died at 96 years young. I treasured her for all of my 39 years.

As the eldest of 17 grandchildren, I know we all meant the world to her. Her legacy now includes five great-grandchildren too.

Only two weeks ago, the youngest one, my nephew Peter, visited her in the nursing home, and in the photos Nan’s eyes beam with the same love she had for all of us.

Over the last few days we have recounted many great stories. The same things have been said over and over again. Lil was a lady, she carried herself with great integrity and expected the same of us.

We always knew where to find her. She was most often at home in Woodside with a good conversation, or some news to share. She would present her signature weak milky tea, or 7Up, and would have Time-Outs or scones or pancakes at the ready. She often made a boiled egg with toast cut into scrumptious soldiers. 

I can’t explain why they always tasted better than any other toast, but they did!

It was only in 2016, the night before I gave birth to Ricky, when I had a boiled egg for tea, I realised I had never in fact capped a boiled egg myself! Nan had always done it for me. After my egg that evening, I rang her and we had a good laugh together.

Nana was a newswire for our family and we always knew the latest on everyone, her homes in Woodside and Muskerry Heights in Tower were places we gathered and met when we were passing.

It was easy to see that anyone who met my Nan, loved her and she had a wide circle of neighbours and friends she nurtured herself.

We gathered again in the church where she was baptised and married to celebrate her life. It was a real privilege to sing Amazing Grace at the funeral, a hymn she taught me to play on the piano as a child. When I could play it and knew the words, she asked me would I sing it when this time came. I agreed, but at the same time, wanted to keep her forever.

My voice certainly quivered with emotion as I sang it in tribute to her, but she would say “You did your best, that’s all you can do”.

We will miss her physical presence but her love and influence will live on in us all. RIP.