A toast to Mrs P.

Two weeks ago a dear buddy of ours lost his Mum, Maureen. It was unexpected, and came as a great shock. She will be farewelled today in Perth, and we are 2400 km away, so I would like to pay a tribute to a wonderful Mum, who left an indelible impression on Warren and I. Although we called Blaise’s Mum Maureen, I always wanted to call her Mrs P, so today that’s what I’ll do.

We met her at Blaise and Raechels’ wedding. Mrs P was an absolute hoot. I don’t think she intended comedy, but she calmly rolled out outrageous stories of Blaise’s spirited and youthful exploits (often in cahoots with his siblings or friends), with deadpan delivery, as if that went on in every household. Whenever we saw her we encouraged her to tell us more, which she did in the same matter of fact way, to our immense delight.

Mrs P knew how to put an outfit together. Whether we were whizzing along in a boat, or she was support crew at a mountain bike event, Mrs P was stylishly turned out. No shrinking violet, Mrs P was keen to get in amongst the action, a vision of classic style in the dusty heat at the end of the Cape-to-Cape Mountain Bike event, in firm possession of an esky with icy cold champagne and beer for us all. When we were on the boat, Mrs P effortlessly produced fabulous onion tart, and other foodie goodness.

We didn’t get to spend a lot of time with Mrs P, but we feel lucky to have the time that we did. She was terribly proud of her children, and although we only know Blaise well, I am sure all are testament to the amazing job she did as a Mum.

To Mrs P; Although we cannot be there today, we know you liked a bubbly, so we toast you with a Champagne, and imagine you are having a glass with us. You were an impact player, a jolly good stick, and you will be missed.  x