Ruth Mold Walter 31.12.1930 to 19.10.2023

My mother died yesterday. She was 92 years old, virtually blind, deaf and suffering from Alzheimer's Disease. After discussions with her doctors she had been taken off all medication apart from pain control and put into end of life care a few days earlier. She died in the excellent Aged Care facility where she has lived since 2016. My father was there at the end, holding her hand.

A family photo from 1986. My mother is seated, I'm on the left. My sister is in the middle, Dad on the right. And the dog.

Throughout all of this my sister has been everyone's pillar of strength. She made sure Dad was prepared, it was her who met with all the medical staff, and kept me fully informed. Everything has been organised and she has made it extremely easy for me. Considering how many people my age I come across with completely uncooperative siblings, I am aware of how lucky I am. The death of a parent is one of the most difficult things to deal with for those of us who live far away.

My mother presenting me to my great-grandmother in 1960. The other family members are an uncle, a great-aunt and an aunt.

My mother was short, clever, hard working and energetic, a bit bolshie, a bit loud, creative and with the confidence to turn her hand to anything. She liked to cook, garden, sew, paint a bit, go botanising, camping and do puzzles. She met my father in New Zealand when they were both taking a sort of gap year. She was working as a waitress, he was working as a shearer. It was more or less love at first sight and she supported him in everything. My sister sent me all her diaries, so we know.

Mum birdwatching on Iluka Beach, New South Wales, in 2003.

She was the daughter of English immigrants, born in Melbourne, Australia. Her father was a builder and joiner, her mother was a housewife, and she had a younger brother, who became a dairy farmer. When she left school she had a choice of careers -- she could have gone to work for her father, or train as a nurse or a teacher. She chose nursing, getting qualifications in general nursing, surgery and midwifery. All her married life she managed a career and our family, keeping us fed in clean comfortable surroundings. For the last half of her career, after I and my sister had left home, she specialised in geriatric and end of life care, working as a domicilary nurse.

Mum heading off to golf in 2002. The golf cart wasn't road legal, but the golf course was only a block away. This method of getting to and fro continued until the local police sergeant noticed and had a word.

I wanted to tell an anecdote that gave a flavour of how she was, and the one which springs to mind is from when she visited us in London. We were travelling on the Underground, no doubt going to some museum or other, and she was seated next to a tall handsome black man wearing a pair of beautiful distressed leather trousers, a complete stranger, of course. She turned to him with a friendly smile, patted him on the leg and said 'I like your trousers. Where did you get them?' The rest of us were open mouthed with horror -- not only had she spoken to a stranger on the Underground, she had manhandled them!! Luckily the cool dude in the leather must have had a rather wonderful embarrassing provinicial Mum who chatted with everyone too, and he smiled back and answered her question. 

My mother in 2006, at Uluru, Northern Territory, Australia. A couple of days after I took this photo, Simon emailed me a photo from Loches market and we had started the process of buying a house in the Touraine Loire Valley in France.

Now she has died she will be cremated and we will have a memorial service when everyone can be together. Her ashes will be scattered in a nature reserve that she and my father help to establish.

Mum seated right, Dad on the left, me behind Mum, my sister behind Dad. This is 2018, the last time I saw my Mum.

My family is very grateful to everyone at the Aged Care facility. They have all been so kind and respectful. My father, my sister and I are very touched.