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One advantageous way to admeasurement the best bodies in activity is to alpha by barometer the worst. Robyn Clauscen, 75, of Sunny Avenue, Wavell Heights, Brisbane, already formed for eight years in the adjacent Toombul Arcade Centre cinema. She ushered bodies to their seats, she awash them their tickets and she biconcave their airheaded into boxes. Backward one night at the end of a arduous shift, Robyn and a aide strolled into an all-but-empty ­carpark to acquisition that addition had defecated on the windscreen of her workmate’s car. Her colleague’s afraid acknowledgment was to about-face on her wipers, overextension the begrimed ­discharge beyond the windscreen. Robyn artlessly befuddled her arch and asked herself the ­obvious question: “Who would do such a thing?”



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Robyn was 48 years old aback she completed her chief affidavit at night academy and enrolled in a university attitude course. In the canicule aback uni texts were not all begin online but axial ample belted book repositories frequently accepted as libraries, Robyn came beyond a alive and ­ambitious adolescent man who blithely accepted to photocopying and afresh ambuscade all the aggregate not-for-loan assay abstraction texts in impossible-to-find locations throughout the library shelves. “Who would do such a thing?” Robyn asked herself.



Years later, Robyn was alive as the on-site analyst at a airy and awash women’s apartment in New Farm, burghal Brisbane, for women adversity from abominable calm ­violence, alarming brainy bloom episodes, accepted alcoholism and boundless biologic addiction. It was in this apartment that Robyn fabricated the affecting analysis that there were men in this apple of such abysmal depression that they fabricated algid calls to her apartment to advertise drugs to drug-addicted ­mothers. Door-to-door salesmen hawking little artificial accoutrements to a bound market. “Who would do such a thing?” Robyn asked herself.

But at the adverse end of all that low-life actuality she can bethink a woman who additionally formed in door-to-door sales. This was in the 1950s. The woman’s bedmate died too adolescent and she was larboard to accession four accouchement on her own. She collection a babyish Ford Anglia about the streets of Brisbane affairs domiciliary accessories in adjustment to augment her kids. Some canicule she awash oranges at ­markets from the cossack of her car. Some canicule men in cartage would wind bottomward their ­windows and corruption her. “Get aback home to your children,” they yelled. Aback men weren’t abusing her they were ­making not-so-subtle ­suggestions to move her accessories presentation from the kitchen to the bedroom. But this woman endured all this to augment and accouter her kids.



One day she agape on the aperture of a acceptable man’s house. This man was a widower, adopting three kids on his own. And that woman affiliated this man. Some bodies said she never admired that man as abundant as she admired her aboriginal ­husband but she affiliated him anyhow because she admired him abundant and she was never activity to let that man’s three accouchement abound up afterwards a mother because she had apparent what it was like for her own accouchement to abound up afterwards a father. Who would do such a thing?

“That was Mum,” Robyn says, her fingers ­tapping the abandon of a half-full bottle of baptize comatose on the table in the rear courtyard of her abode on the even-numbers ancillary of Sunny Avenue.

That was Mollie Meade. The best of the best. Mother to seven, acquaintance to hundreds. Kindness personified. Thoughtful to a fault, to her final hours. Mollie died at 91 in 2008, the year Robyn and her husband, Keith, confused to Sunny Avenue. Even on her deathbed Mollie was cerebration of anybody but herself. She was cerebration of her ­children. She was cerebration of Robyn. And Robyn remembers the aftermost affair her mother said afore she died. Maybe the best admirable words she has anytime heard. And she wants to echo this book now but the words accomplish her weep, not because they are sad, but because they are so abounding with activity in the face of death. “Yours…” Robyn says. And she pauses to swallow. She breathes and gathers her thoughts. “Yours is the last….” But afresh she cries and she slaps her thigh, frustrated. “Agggh!” she says. “I can never say this afterwards crying.” And she closes her eyes and tries again.

Robyn Clauscen says growing old is like attached abowling brawl about your abate and boring it abaft you wherever you walk. She’s consistently been alive but article about actuality 75 is slowing her down. She’s aback got a debilitating anguish in her larboard knee aback she moves. The accessory niggles in her aback accept angry to absolute causes for ­concern and they’re advancing on her account schedule. “And that absolutely pisses me off,” she says. The account agenda as it stands: Zumba chic on Monday from 7.45am to 8.45am in the Burnie Brae Community Centre in Chermside, bristles ­minutes’ drive from Sunny Avenue. Art chic afterwards Zumba, afresh lunch, afresh band dancing chic from 1.30pm to 3.30pm. Tuesdays are aloof for her account coffee catch-up with her earlier brother, Keral, and her earlier sister, Trish. Wednesday sees added Zumba in the morning and afresh dental and doctor accessories in the afternoon. Thursday is exercise and deepening chic followed by addition art class, area she has been putting the finishing touches on a appreciably conscientious account of the artisan Margaret Olley, one of Robyn’s heroes. Thursday afternoons she picks up Keith from his approved affair at the bounded men’s shed. Friday is laundry day. Friday is charwoman day. Friday sucks. But afresh the weekend comes and she gets to go to the Dayboro Markets, 40 minutes’ drive north, area her boyish grandsons Quinn and Rohan advertise scones, shortbread and bouldered alley treats of such deliciousness that they accept banked abundant money from sales to buy their aboriginal cars. She’s so appreciative of their assignment ethic, alive at 4am on ­market-day mornings to broil their scones and affairs them in the hot morning sun aback best of their mates are sleeping off hangovers.

Robyn couldn’t delay to be a grandmother. Aback her earlier daughter, Heidi, a appropriate apprenticeship teacher, gave bearing at 36 to Quinn, Robyn gave up assignment as a analyst and adherent her canicule to caring for Quinn until he was at kindergarten so Heidi could abide to work. Robyn’s youngest daughter, Katrina, lives in Sydney and works for Qantas and has told her mum she doesn’t appetite to accept kids. Robyn has assuredly learnt not to consistently admonish big-hearted Katrina of what a abundant mother she would be, because that’s not consistently a affair that Katrina wants to hear.

Today is coffee catch-up day with Keral and Trish. Keral is a retired carpenter with a affection for photography and history. On Robyn’s garden table, amidst by congenital plants, a apple-pie backyard and a assurance for the alfresco dunny apparent “Loo”, Trish and Robyn sip algid baptize in the ­stifling calefaction as Keral updates his sisters on his ­latest investigations into their aggregate ancestry.

“Thomas Upton!” he whispers. A captive ­relative on his mother Mollie’s side. “He was on the Second Fleet that came out in 1790.” Keral slaps the table with pride. “He was a carpenter,” he sings. A chippy, aloof like Keral. Thomas Upton accidentally bought clothes from a 14-year-old boy alleged John Cooper, who had baseborn 49 ­calico shirts from his employer. Upton bought the clothes so he could canyon them on to his wife, who was with adolescent and who cut up the clothes and sewed them into a tablecloth and a apron for her soon-to-be-born baby. In the Old Bailey, adolescent Cooper was bedevilled to a whipping from his boss, but poor old Thomas Upton was bedevilled to 14 years in an alien acreage that would one day be accepted as Oz. Trish knows why he was bedevilled so harshly. “They bare the tradies,” she says.

The chance goes, according to Keral, that Thomas Upton and abounding added afflicted and craving ­convicts were affected to bathe to bank from their anchored ships. Some were too sick, too weak, and drowned afore extensive this abundant southern land. “That swim!” Keral says, afraid his head. “If Thomas doesn’t survive that swim, we’re not sitting actuality today.” No scones on market-day mornings. No Zumba classes on Monday. No time in the sun on Sunny Avenue. So swim, Thomas Upton, swim.

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Robyn was seven years old aback she saw Keral airing on water. They were arena in the Nudgee Waterhole Reserve, a morning’s bike ride from their old abode in Northgate, a suburb neighbouring Wavell Heights. “Look at me!” Keral ­hollered, and Robyn gasped at the eyes of her brother added beyond the cottony amber water, miraculously dispatch on a band of amphibian afraid pads. And Robyn capital to feel her brother’s magic, not realising that Keral was, in fact, treading forth an concealed timberline annex aloof below the surface. Robyn leapt from the water’s bend and assimilate the abutting afraid pad and promptly sank to the basal of the black waterhole, area the affable bottom-dwelling reeds captivated about her twig-thin legs and wouldn’t let go, no amount how adamantine she kicked. Swim, Robyn, swim. Afresh the extensive duke of her big brother bankrupt through the brilliant water. And ain’t that aloof the chance of Keral, consistently accommodating to accommodate a hand.

Robyn’s father’s name was Herbert but he calledhimself Jay. Her mother’s name was Ita but she alleged herself Mollie. Jay formed on his ­family’s 12,000ha sheep base 80km alfresco Longreach, axial west Queensland. He was acceptable with his hands: he congenital windmills; he congenital simple guitars to bombinate as the sun went down. Jay met Mollie while on a cruise to Brisbane to see his sister, Ina, who was Mollie’s best acquaintance through their nursing training at the Royal Brisbane Hospital. “You two are in love,” Ina told Mollie. “You best get affiliated afore he goes aback home or Mum will stop him.”

“She’d interfered in his relationships before,” Trish says. “Mum’s ancestors were Catholics and Dad’s ancestors were Protestants. They absitively to get ­married beeline away, about elope. They were affiliated in Brisbane’s St Stephen’s Basilica but abandoned in the ancillary chapel. They couldn’t ally in the capital basilica because Dad wasn’t Catholic.”

Mollie confused aback to the base with Jay but she was a burghal babe who struggled to acclimatize to the arenaceous and abandoned axial west. Jay’s sisters were boxy on her. Jay’s ancestor was a quiet man who accepted blackout at the banquet table. Mollie’s outback affable wasn’t up to scratch. The abandoned way to baker Longreach cow argot is to abscess it in a pot with a scattering of marbles. Aback the ­marbles are bendable abundant to eat, so is the cow tongue. ­Mollie’s cow argot was boxy abundant to blanket about a additional caster and drive to town.

Jay and Mollie anon confused aback to ­Brisbane, area their kids – Keral, Trish, Robyn and the youngest, Don – would abound up in a small-but-big-enough abode in Northgate. Apple War II was raging, and Jay capital to do his bit for his country. He activated three times and was abandoned anniversary time because the medical examiners said he had a bad heart, a affection babble that could not be anchored in the 1940s. The neighbours consistently wondered why such a beefcake and able man like Jay – 6ft alpine with farm-hardened basic – wasn’t on the battlefields of Europe and it was with a bendable and burst voice, years later, that Jay told his oldest son Keral that he already opened up his letterbox in the acutely candied suburbs of Brisbane to acquisition a white feather.

Robyn has a active anamnesis of farewelling her ancestor at an airport. She’s nine years old and she hugs him and watches his even fly off into the sky. She knows now that her ancestor was aerial to ­Longreach to appointment ancestors but whenever she thinks of that moment the adolescent babe in the anamnesis is assertive that her ancestor is aerial into the sky because he is on his way up to heaven.

Only canicule afterwards that airport farewell, Robyn came home to acquisition her ancestors adhering their mum on her bed. Everybody was complaining and Robyn didn’t accept why. Her ancestor had accomplished bistro a buzz meal in the abode and died of affection abortion appropriate there at the dining table. “They begin he had a adulterated valve in his affection and 12 months afterwards he died they performed the aboriginal pig valve affection operation in a animal being,” Keral says. “If he had lasted 12 added months he ability accept fabricated it to one of these operations.” That’s a 10-minute ­operation these days, Trish says.

It still hurts Keral to anticipate about. It was 1954. Keral was 15. “You see these mongrels today who exhausted their wives and leave their kids and they alive to 97,” he says, afraid his head. “He was the best ancestor in the apple and he died at 42.”

Mollie capital to die afterwards that, too. She capital to chase Jay up to heaven, no question, because she admired him like annihilation abroad bottomward actuality on Earth. But she hopped into the family’s Ford Anglia and instead of active it into advancing cartage she collection it from abode to house, suburb to suburb, affairs domiciliary appliances.

Robyn did not bawl for her ancestor the way her ancestors and her mum did. She doesn’t apperceive why. There was no bookish goodbye to their dad for Robyn and her siblings. The burial was in ­Longreach and Mollie didn’t appetite her kids to see their ancestor actuality buried. Robyn artlessly put her father’s afterlife in a abode in her apperception she rarely went. Afresh one day aback she was 16 years old she was abandoned in the abode and a song alleged Oh! My Papa came on the radio. A hit for Eddie Fisher in 1954, the year her dad died. Oh, my Papa, he consistently understood. Gone are the canicule aback he could booty me on his knee. And with a smile he’d change my tears to laughter. “It came on and I aloof bankrupt bottomward crying,” Robyn says. “I aloof couldn’t ascendancy myself. For abounding years I didn’t grieve. Afresh all my ­grieving came at once.”

Robyn lives on an age pension. Roughly $400 aweek to advance beyond a acutely amaranthine accumulation of bills and ascent active expenses. “We’re dipping into accumulation about every fortnight now,” she says.

She approved to calibration aback on gift-buying this accomplished Christmas, as abundant because of her ever-dwindling affairs as the way her abdomen has been axis in contempo years at the berserk allowance and audacious faculty of alms the asinine division seems to added betrayal anniversary year. In a awash arcade capital aloof afore Christmas, Robyn got talking to addition grandmother. “Have you accomplished your Christmas shopping?” Robyn asked, cheerfully. And the grandmother sighed, abashed and spent. “Well, my granddaughter aloof gave me her list.”

“She gave you a list?” Robyn gasped.

The best allowance Robyn anytime accustomed as a babe was a baby alleged Debbie that her mum paid off in instalments. Debbie didn’t talk. Debbie didn’t accept congenital sensors that could accomplish her eyes ablaze up aback addition absolved accomplished her. But Robyn fabricated do with Debbie. Robyn consistently fabricated do. Things were austere afterwards her dad died. But afresh Mollie met a acceptable man alleged Nick Meade, a abandoned ancestor of three accouchement – Margaret, Chris and Kevin – and Robyn’s ancestors of bristles became a ancestors of nine. Her actual own Brisbane Brady Bunch. Robyn couldn’t alarm Nick “Dad”, because that name would consistently be taken, but she alleged him “Papa Nick” and she admired him with all her affection and soul. He was a area metal artisan for the federal government’s Postmaster-General’s Department.

Soon Robyn was old abundant for aerial academy and she had to accomplish do there, too, like all the Banyo State Aerial Academy girls had to do. No appropriate bookish capacity for the girls of her aerial school. “We didn’t get offered the college bookish ­subjects,” she says. “Sorry, Robyn, you’re a girl, you can apprentice maths, English, shorthand, affable and knitting.” She larboard in Year 10, begin a job as a ­hairdresser and took off beyond Australia with a boy alleged Keith Clauscen, who was a Civic Serviceman – a “Nasho” – alongside his abutting friend, Keral. Keith and Keral were never alleged over to Vietnam but Robyn’s adolescent brother Don volunteered to go because he was like his ancestor and he lived for adventure. He was abandoned 19, like the song goes. He served in the armoured cadre unit. Tanks. Don beatific audiotapes aback to his ancestors from Vietnam account his operations, consistently abrogation out the genitalia about claret and abhorrence and loss.

“He’d abode belletrist to me and acquaint me all the abhorrent things he was seeing but afresh he’d abode to Mum and acquaint her it was like a anniversary camp,” Trish says. “‘All admirable here, Mum’. I accept no agnosticism he came home with PTSD.”

But Don affiliated a acceptable woman, aloft three acceptable kids and confused to the Sunshine Coast. He was walking forth a bank about seven years ago, age-old 65, aback he had a achievement that larboard him how he is today. “Can’t apprehend or write,” Keral says. ­“Massive array on the larboard ancillary of his brain.”

Robyn and Keith aloft their two girls Heidi and Katrina in a abode in Nundah, a neighbouring suburb to Wavell Heights. It wasn’t until her daughters were in aerial academy that Robyn entertained thoughts of acceptable a psychologist. “I was consistently absorbed in it and so was mum,” Robyn says. “I went aback to night academy and so did Mum. We did avant-garde history and English together. Mum admired acquirements and she went on to be a amusing artisan in Fortitude Valley with St Vincent de Paul. She had that big affection and that was the absolute job for her.”

When she completed her attitude amount Robyn went from alive in the cinema to ­working for an Anglicare women’s apartment in New Farm. “I was so innocent afore that job,” she says. “I saw some absolutely bad stuff. This was 1980s Brisbane. We formed with women from 18 to 80 years old. There were women who would beddy-bye bottomward in New Farm Park. They’d get bashed and raped. Old women. We approved to get them adaptation and get them off the street. I was there for eight years and it was a actual demanding eight years.”

Sometimes Robyn would ask her audience about their lives and she would be addled by how carefully their aboriginal belief akin her own. Backyards bathed in sunshine. Swims through creeks. Bike rides. Sunday roasts. So generally these women began their lives as intelligent, hopeful girls with big dreams and big hearts and so generally their lives were badly afflicted by the affliction affectionate of people. There was consistently some key incident, some axis point, the women could trace their lives aback to that afflicted everything. Abandonment. Abuse. Neglect. One bad choice. One run of bad luck.

“It came to a time one day area I aloof bankrupt bottomward and cried with them,” Robyn says. “It was all too much. I don’t accept in the approach that psych­ologists should be impervious to these things. You can’t sit there with a woman who’s arrant and cogent you these things and not react. I acclimated to cry appropriate there with them. And afresh I’d feel so blessed aback you had some win for them, aback you got them a abode to alive or got them some money to pay a debt.”

If there was a alpha to the end of her time alive in that shelter, it was aback the babe absolved to the river. “This babe came in one day and I knew she was a common visitor,” Robyn says. “She had an bistro ataxia and she capital to go to this abode to get some advice and so I phoned this abode to ask if they had a atom for her and afresh I had to acquaint this babe that they didn’t accept a abode for her. And afresh she aloof absolved off and absolved into the Brisbane River and she didn’t appear out.”

Robyn is bashful for a continued moment. “I spent a continued time allurement myself, ‘What didn’t I do for her?’ And I apperceive you can’t do that to yourself.” She all-overs her head. “She seemed OK aback she larboard me.”

So ain’t that aloof like life. A woman works for eight years in a apartment alteration endless lives and agreeable in bags of absolute animal interactions but the one alternation that keeps advancing aback to her is the one that concluded in a ­tragedy she played no allotment in.

But the earlier she gets, the bigger Robyn ­Clauscen gets at barometer the acceptable actuality afore the bad stuff; the best bodies afore the worst. She remembers her dad and her brothers and sisters and her bedmate and her daughters and her grandsons. She remembers Mollie Meade. Her mum confused into a retirement apple in her ­twilight years and lived with so abundant action and animation that her neighbours complained about her babble and the actuality she was still active in her backward 80s. “I don’t appetite to be about all these old ­people!” Mollie quipped to her children.

What if you could abate your circadian thoughts, expectations and worries to the things you apperceive are activity to amount to you on your deathbed? Robyn slept on a mattress in Mollie’s allowance during the aftermost four canicule of her life. All that Mollie was anxious with by the end was love. Annihilation but love. She was afloat in and out of alertness at the end. She would beam at the end of her bed and allege of her aboriginal love, Jay, continuing and watching over her. “Just go, Mum,” Keral said to Mollie at her bedside. “Just go now and be with Dad.”

On the night of Mollie’s afterlife Robyn had to go home briefly to change her clothes. It wasn’t continued afore the nurses alleged to say Mollie was gone. It makes Robyn sad to anticipate she wasn’t there in that moment aback her mum died. She wasn’t there to authority her hand, to hug her, to adulation her. But Mollie would be the aboriginal to acquaint Robyn that activity rarely unfolds with absolute timing. One charge accomplish the best of the acceptable moments aback they happen. And Robyn’s accepting bigger at canonizing the acceptable moments added generally than the bad ones. And so she tries afresh to say those aftermost words she heard appear out of her mother’s aperture and she doesn’t let her tears stop her from adage them this time. “Yours is the aftermost face I’m activity to see,” Mollie said, staring up at her daughter, Robyn. “And what a admirable face it is.”

Next week: Gary Diggles’ story

Read added belief from Sunny Avenue

The Weekend Australian Magazine

Brisbane

Read Next

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