Becoming like my mother

I recently replied to a comment on a post I wrote (What doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger) that I was turning into my mother more and more every day. I got to thinking that it may have be taken in the negative.

I wanted to clarify that it wasn’t! I know most of us cringe at the thought of ‘turning into’ our parents, but I actually don’t mind.

Sure my Mum and I have had our issues, misunderstandings and have not always liked each other. But these days I recognise her for who she is and was – and that is a really cool Mum.

My Mum is beautiful. I pour praise on my Nan for being a beautiful spirit, but the fact is that she succeeded in passing that down to my Mum. Combined with the fact that Mum has had a pretty rough life, she has managed to come through it with youthfulness, a smile and the ability to constantly laugh…or should I say cackle, which is what my sister and I have inherited. I swear, when you get us together, look out! I think it’s awesome, and contagious – but we do tend to get lots of looks! And that’s because we are just so god damn gorgeous!


Monday Photo-day: Experimenting with Free Apps

This is one of my favourite photos of my Nan. Now, I can’t take the credit for taking the photo – I believe that belongs to my Mum. She captured my Nan’s life, joy and beauty perfectly.

I thought this photo would make a beautiful pencil sketch, so I tried converting it to a pencil sketch using a free App I had downloaded onto my iPhone called PhotoFunia. It was that easy!



Lily Tolcher

On the eve of the 1st anniversary

I sit here on the eve of the 1st anniversary of my Nan’s death, and the tears are finally coming.

I’ve always been a crier, and I’ve always been in tune with my emotions (sometimes too much), but since Nan passed I suddenly developed a tougher exterior, and I lost my ability to cry.

I admit, I actually did a lot of my mourning before she passed, as the cancer took hold of her and dragged her down so fast. It was shocking to see the effects on her body and her mind. It was scary watching her sitting there scared. It was hard seeing her make the decision to go nil by mouth – even though I totally supported and agreed with the decision. And then – sitting there by her bedside holding her hand, watching her as she slept. Her body wracked by spasms of pain, her mind running wild with dreams, her lungs struggling to breath, every now and then waking up and saying my name and slipping back into sleep.

By this stage she had moved home, and rested on a hospital bed looking out into the bush as the horses in the paddock next door ran back and forth, the birds sang, and the wind blew, rattling the branches of the tall gum trees outside. It was here that she passed, with my Uncle sitting next to her. I believe she uttered Grandads name as she went. I’m no spiritual person, but I like to believe that they are now reunited, and that she is driving him bonkers!

As I write this the tears are flowing, and I am happy for the release. I haven’t allowed myself much time at all to think about Nan since the funeral, and that is a real disservice, as she was the most amazing and special person.

I miss you Nan.


Your Granddaughter.