Cherishing Memories: Valuable Life Lessons from Loved Ones We've Lost

As many of you already know, I have had a pretty lousy week, with both my lovely Dad and a good friend passing away on the same day.

My Dad was a good man and of course I have many memories of the things we did together. Fishing on the beach during a camping holiday, sailing in his little boat, hiking in rainforest and wilderness, watching the boats come into harbour at the end of the Brisbane to Gladstone yacht race. We shared a love of music in general and the Seekers and Beatles in particular. I will miss his sense of humour, quick wit and quiet ability to always make you feel welcome. The grief is still quite raw, so forgive me if I get teary when you next encounter me in whatever context.

My friend was a fellow artist and I admired both her work and the woman herself. She would never had said so, but she had endured a lot in her life; a fact which made her very aware of the human condition, resulting in a hugely compassionate nature and deep, rich and expressive artworks.

Losing someone close leaves a deep void, but it also offers a unique chance to reflect on the lessons they shared during their lives. These lessons often shape who we become and guide us through challenges. Remembering the wisdom of those we've lost helps keep their spirit alive and enriches our own journey. Both my Dad, my most recently passed friend and others I have lost along the way have left their mark on my life which I can embrace and learn from to make my own more meaningful going forward.

Peace reflected in Nature

Seize the Day

The primary lesson that people are no longer part of lives leave is, of course, to live life to the full. Because, none of us knows how long we have got...any second could be our last; so we need to make them all count. That is not to say we need to be doing something important every second, but we should always be living our best life, making the most of our opportunities and our time. I have talked about this before particularly in my blogs "Carpe Diem" and "Legacies". I remember explaining to another deceased friend that I couldn't leave my horrible job without another one to go to. She knew she was terminally ill and her perspective of life was through that lens. She told me in no uncertain terms that I absolutely could and probably should.

Understand you are part of nature, not above it.

Dad in his happy place - nature.

My Dad, in particular instilled a love of nature, an appreciation for all flora and fauna, and introduced me to the magic of Lamington National Park. I spent years exploring out of the way places with him, learning the names and idiosyncrasies of animals, trees and birds that we encountered. I remember a school project where I had to section off a square metre of local bush and observe the plants, animals and invertebrates within it over several weeks. He accompanied me with enthusiasm every week, helping me develop an appreciation for even the smallest miracles of nature. For Dad and now for me, wildlife was family, and should be treated accordingly. These things no doubt contributed to the reason I have chosen to live somewhere I can be close to nature and why I advocate so strongly about land-clearing and protecting our natural assets. By supporting me during my school girl rejection of dam building in Tasmania (another magical place he introduced me to) he taught me that we can all make small differences when we ensure we are following our moral compass.

I feel a deep connection with nature, spiritually as well as ecologically. This was also something my friend felt. I remember her telling me that she could feel energy vibrating in rocks, clearly expecting me to laugh and make fun of her. But I knew exactly what she was talking about, thanks to my Dad. She loved to roam the forests of Mapleton where she lived for a time and made numerous pilgrimages to Iceland where she would commune deeply with the land and its inhabitants.

A Quiet Dignity and Resolve

This quality was evident in both my Dad and my friend. Neither would happily make themselves the centre of attention or require others to bow to their requirements, but both quietly demanded respect because of their inherent honesty and integrity. They lived their lives according to their beliefs and understandings but always embraced the possibility that there might be things that were beyond their level of knowing. They advocated for people and priorities important to them.

Embracing Compassion and Kindness

Dad often volunteered his time to help others. I remember when, as an electrician he disappeared for days at a time to help people affected by the 1974 floods rebuild their lives. Despite expecting a high standard from us as his kids, he was encouraging and clearly sought the best for us and assumed the best of us. My sister and I still laugh about how if we asked for help with homework, he would take our questions so seriously that we would find ourselves still sitting amongst umpteen books, diagrams and notes hours later - long after we had stopped caring about the issue at hand and way beyond anyone's expectation of the thoroughness of his help. My friend's openness and unapologetic realness made those around her feel comfortable in her presence and in their own skin. Their kindness was genuine, not for recognition, and both could "read the room" empathising with the feelings and emotions of the people they were surrounded by. My Dad's ability to do this, even as his dementia progressed was astounding.

Arcadia (detail) by Ann Russell, mixed media assemblage, 2009.

Do What You Love; make memories.

My Dad loved sailing and experiencing nature. Even in his latter years he loved to visit natural places. Some of my best memories of him are when he was in his element on a boat, or being part of nature. He could mimic a whipbird's call and would answer the male bird with a very good imitation of the female, which no doubt drove them nuts. To celebrate a birthday - his 60th I think, we bought him a trip in a tiger moth. He absolutely loved it. I'm not sure he did everything he wanted to do, but he showed me the need to do the things that make you happy while you can. Similarly, my friend embraced her love of expressing herself through art, not so she could chase fame and wealth, but so she could honour her soul. Recently, she moved back to her homeland of New Zealand and began creating her dream artistic home. Following your own path requires an optimism and courage that is not strongly encouraged or honoured in our world. Sharing your passion with those around you, allows the creation of memories that last long after you do.

Carrying Forward Their Legacy

Honouring the lessons from loved ones means applying them in our daily lives. It can be through small actions or larger commitments. As I grieve my Dad and my friend, I hope to honour them both in this way, and use it as a source of strength and inspiration.

May you both rest in peace and thank you so much for the lessons you have left as your legacies.

A quiet moment in nature for reflection.