Nicholas Cohn

Younger Son.

Unable to travel to Australia due to COVID restrictions, a version of the video above was shown at the Memorial Service.

Mum went to great trouble to ensure I had a good start in life, both literally, and figuratively. Given her difficulty with screaming children, I’m amazed that Matthew, Lucy and I made it through childhood relatively unscathed. Mind you, we didn’t make it easy for her, especially myself, during our teenage years. It is a testament to her love for us that she stuck by us through it all. Something that I only really appreciated after I had children of my own.

She affected the lives of thousands through her teaching. I remember well the living room filled with students work and the hours and hours during the school holidays she spent marking, commenting and writing reports.

Mum and Dad gave us freedom to make our own choices and learn from our mistakes. She was the one I went to when I needed something, and she was usually agreeable to my requests.

But she was by no means perfect. I mean, how on earth can someone get a kitchen soooooo messy while cooking? But she did her best, and her best was always more than good enough.

Dad always likes to point out that, at the age of 21, she threw me on a train to Kalgoorlie to go and work on the mines. But the truth is, that was an option that I completely agreed with and undertook willingly. Who knew then that that train ride would lead me to the other side of the planet? If she was trying to get rid of me it worked better than anyone could have imagined.

But when thinking about what to say today, another less known story kept coming back to me.

When I was a cadet in the Air Training Corps I spent at least one week of every school holiday on “work experience” or other camps run by the Corps. By the third time I went on such a camp I had the routine down. I woke up very early, unable to sleep with the anticipation, got ready and took the metro train to Spencer Street Station (now Southern Cross Station, I believe) a whole hour earlier than required. When I got there though, there was no one else waiting. Strange. The appointed time came and went and still no one else had shown up. Did I have the wrong day? How could that be? It turned out that I was late. Everyone had already gotten on the busses and departed before I arrived. So I took the metro back home, my tail between my knees, my head bowed in shame.

Leaving the station in Brighton I ran into Mum who had just parked the car by the station to do her Saturday morning shopping. Needless to say, she was not expecting to see me there. I explained the situation and without hesitation she said something like “Put your bag in the car. We’re going to Sale”. At the drop of a hat she gave up all her plans for the day and drove me to RAAF Base East Sale, then a three hour drive from our home in Melbourne. It did not go smoothly. The car broke down on the way, but we got there, 3 hours later than the rest. I spent a great week learning about the Air Force and having a grand old time. Now, the cynical among you may think that this was the first sign of her wanting to get rid of me. But I choose to feel it was a stellar example of her consideration and devotion to those she loved.

I am relieved that Mum no longer has to deal with the ever increasing difficulties ALS, or Motor Neuron Disease, imposed on her the last few years. Thank you Dad for looking after her. My thanks also to all of you from the community around Mount Beauty. The support from all of you that helped Mum and Dad in these last difficult years is very much appreciated. Being on the other side of the planet, and unable to travel, it comforts me that Dad, though he may still feel it for some time, will not be alone in the coming days, months and years.

In the coming time, please don’t ask Dad, or anyone else for that matter, to “Move on”. There is no “moving on” from this. There is only moving forward, with all of life’s new adventures, with Mum in our hearts.