AFTERWORD | Vanished

I recently read Mum’s (Nana’s) book “Vanished” with extreme interest and anticipation. I started it the day a copy arrived by courier from Sydney, creating private space and fortifying myself with a glass of Nana’s favourite red wine (and then a small scotch for Dad) to adsorb the content and reflect.

Vanished is a great name for your memoirs Mum and clever theme summarising your story, but you will never be Vanished. You had such an amazing impact on the lives of so many people and will live on in our hearts through the generations.

Mum had spent many of the COVID Pandemic lockdowns writing her memoirs and in our regular calls would say “You are going to be shocked at some of the things that I share in the book, you mightn’t like me anymore”. Suffice to say, my feelings reading Vanished created minimal “shock” but enormous fond and sentimental memories as the detailed descriptions helped me recall and appreciate the safe, loving, wonderfully adventurous, curious and supportive life (so far) that Mum and Dad helped to set up for Barbara, Leslie, John and I. This gift has then been multiplied through us and Mum directly to her grandkids (and beyond). Through many a tear, I came away feeling completely appreciative to have such a fun, selfless, generous, extraverted and loving Mum, one of my greatest blessings among many. Thank You…

After reading the book for a second time, I realised that there are pieces of the puzzle that are missing or understated in Vanished, that are required to get closer to the whole picture of who Mum is and her impact on the world. Why are they missing? They are missing because Mum wouldn’t think to include them…. she is rare in her genuine humility… it is clear the intent of her book is not to write her legacy and record how good she is, quite the opposite… her intent is to capture some of her life journey so that it gives insight, meaning and learning to the generations coming after her…. a worthwhile, noble and humble cause that she wasn’t fortunate to have due to her early status as “an orphan”.

Mum‘s generosity and positivity are two amazing strengths that she demonstrates on a daily basis. From a young age Mum taught us to work hard, to enjoy each day of life and make it special. To enthusiastically love the little things in life – a nice coffee, a great meal served with mushrooms, being present in the moment with those that you love, a big glass of red wine or Bacardi & Coke after a day at the beach on holidays, the All Blacks scoring a try and any adventurous thing from bungee jumping to skydiving (which we enjoyed together).

The squeals of delight when Mum sees joy around her (many times a day) is infectious. She has always drawn people (both those she knows and strangers) to her, even on occasions when a whole restaurant looks over wondering what that happy person was celebrating. I remember in my awkward younger teen years being a bit embarrassed by Mum’s extraverted expressions that got so much attention, but like my kids in later years (and everyone else who knew her) I soon accepted the situation - “that’s just Fran, she’s beautiful”. I’ve also been pleasantly surprised that she has past these wonderful qualities on to her grand-daughter Nadia who also chooses to see so much joy and adventure in the world around her and whose squeals of delight are a dead ringer for her Nana’s.

After growing up in an orphanage Mum had severe doubts about what her role should be in a family and what her role as mother was. No matter how many times we tried to reassure her that she was a great Mum, she would say that she didn’t grow up with a family and so doesn’t know what the right thing to do is. However, the impact of her love not only on her children but also on all of her grandchildren (who absolutely adore her and treat her with absolute respect) demonstrate what loving, supportive and non-judgement relationships are all about.

One area that I feel is understated in Vanished, is the incredible work ethic that Mum and Dad demonstrated to ensure that our lives were set up to better than their own and their related positive approach to this. Mum was home when we woke up to get us ready for school, would go to sleep for a few hours in the middle of the day, would be woken up when we got home from school, would attentively and happily interact in our after school activities, would then cook dinner so that we could have it together when Dad got home (often late in the evening) and then would get us ready for bed and watch a little English comedy on TV as a family. If that was not enough, she would then get ready for work and then work the whole night as a Nursing Sister only to do it all again the next day.

For 4 or 5 years over the same period, Dad went to night school to get his Bachelor of Accounting and would spend time doing assignments, leading the Australia Bird Count (10,000’s of letters from across Australia entered into the early versions of Microsoft Excel before anyone knew what it was) and being a highly influential community leader. Their work ethic was phenomenal and although maybe not as balanced as later leadership theories would say is optimum the real lesson for us all was their ability to enjoy life’s journey and not be victims to the difficulties and complain (mostly).

Although she tried, cooking was not Mum’s favourite or most accomplished skill. Something I didn’t realise until I started eating at my friend’s places and outside the home, but we are testament that carbon (from burnt lamb chops and sausages) doesn’t actually kill you…

When I was a young teenager, my parents were arguing (didn’t happen often) about money. They were in a tight spot, I think. I had a St George dragon piggy bank so got my pen knife to cut it open to give them the money. The pen knife slipped and I sliced into my finger, needing 6 stitches for my trouble. When Mum and Dad heard that I was trying to give them the money from my piggy bank we all hugged, and they apologised profusely for showing their frustration. They reassured us that everything was fine and life as a young kid was safe and happy again. Unfortunately, being a nurse Mum wasn’t that impressed with my cut. PS: Great way to solve an argument and I got to keep my pocket money…

Something special that I witnessed as a teenager was Mum’s ability to generously and warmly interact with her patients in a way that brought them happiness and comfort at the later stages of their lives. Mum was present in the moment, engaged and interested in them and their lives while so many of her colleague’s interactions were clinical or superficial. It was obviously so much more than just a job to here and the patient’s families were extremely appreciative with the care, diligence, and love that she chose to share and the warmth and big smile that she always displayed.

When I was about 15 years old, Mum took me into the Little Sisters of the Poor Nursing Home where she worked, I was allowed to do rounds with her and got to meet her patients. I distinctly remember one patient who was an elderly bed ridden man who could no longer talk. I think he may have had a stroke however Mum just spoke to him in a completely normal way, introducing me and talking to him as if catching up with an old friend. She told me that he was blinking back to answer her and through that method they were having a conversation. I could see the respect on his face and the joy that this simple conversation brought him.

He was a rich Professor, apparently one of the first heart surgeons in Australia, now near the end of his life. His family had been fighting over the inheritance although they didn’t visit him anymore, so it was people like Mum who were the highlight of his day. He was just one of so many patients that Mum cared for and had a genuine and special connection with.

Over my childhood if there were discussions of “The Will”, it was easily answered by Mum - “We are going to spend every cent enjoying our lives and if there is something left over when we die then we will give it to the Old Cat Lady down the road”. This was the same Old Cat Lady to whom all the dogs and cats that were regularly dumped on our street were supposedly relocated to (possibly the RSPCA?).

The message that I heard was “Don’t rely on any handouts, go and make it for yourself just like we did and then you will appreciate what you have”. I didn’t realise what a gift this lesson was until I saw other seemingly normal people selfishly bicker over wills (in many cases before their parents are in the ground) as well as separations and other get rich quick opportunities and generally acting in an entitled and greedy way through life… How sad that would be and thank you, Mum for that important teaching – far more valuable than any money could be.

My parents pushed us to be the best versions of ourselves. Teaching us to take interest in world affairs, get educated as far as you can, to give you a platform for the future, to appreciate and love the natural world and protect it as much as you could, to be active in the community, travel the world and to not expect anything from anyone else that you hadn’t earned yourself – explore the world and make your mark.

My parents honed into us that many people go through life being unhappy robots – feeling like victims to the whims of other powerful people and authority figures. We were told that we were special because we could genuinely make a positive difference and that we should stand up for what we believe in and not accept someone else’s answer just because it would be the easy option. Conflict was sometimes inevitable but the best outcome if you take a leadership position on something that is right.

I was occasionally reminded that we were growing up in the working class “Western Suburbs” of Sydney and that there were millions of kids that were growing up in areas with more affluence and influence – better teachers, better resources, stronger networks, less affected by crime, etc. My parents said that they would support us to achieve anything we wanted to be - even a garbage collector (the main example) if that was our passion. But if we had aspirations to be more than that, then we had to be smarter and more disciplined, we had to work harder and we had to want it more than most others because we were coming from behind.

Not all of these great examples stuck, but as I reflect now on my own life journey so far these shoots that were planted by my parents have set us all up for the “successes” that we have enjoyed, stretching beyond what was “normal” for our peers.

Mum is extremely encouraging always being our greatest fans. Early on I wasn’t very good or confident at sport (unlike Barbara who is a naturally gifted athlete) but Mum encouraged me endless to try my hardest and praised every effort and small success. Mum was a gifted athlete herself and would take me down the Squash courts and run me around until I got more coordinated and confident, and I can truly say that I got my love of sport and fitness from her.

Now at 51 years old, I have the pleasure of not only still playing cricket with Finn every weekend but still being competitive, a life highlight for me. Mum asks for the scores each time we talk … “How many did Finn score? Did he get any catches? He should bowl more, he’s good. I bet he fielded well?” Mum, your encouragement made all the difference… thank you, I love sport and even secretly admire your favourite AB team….

Mum has been a smoker from early in her life and at different stages of her life has really battled the addiction and many times really wanted to give up. However, the attraction of cigarettes has been strong, and I share this not as a criticism in any in anyway but to highlight the real battles we all go through – even a suburban saint like Mum. Mum’s health has been curtailed in her later years because of this habit (and some of her friends have succumbed due to their love of smoking) but even though smoking brought her pleasure for many years of her life she never smoked around us. She educated us strongly about the dangers of smoking and encouraged us extremely convincingly that smoking wasn’t a wise decision.

The pull of cigarettes was highlighted to me one time when we went down The Land together as a family for a holiday and Mum had decided that she was kicking the habit once and for all. After a week of her not smoking, we went to a party for Easter at a nearby property and many other people there were smoking. The adults were all having a drink and Mum said that she was tempted to steal a packet of cigarettes that had been put down so she had to leave immediately. She stormed home to the cabin, which was about a 5km walk on a dirt road through the bush in pitch dark with only a slither of the moon as light.

Dad sent me to follow Mum through the countryside and make sure she made it safely, which we both did. Next day she said she hadn’t even wanted to give up smoking and was only trying because she was being pressured by those around her. The next shop we saw she bought a packet and started again. Directly due to Mum’s influence I have never smoked a cigarette in my life although I certainly caught her love of having a glass of red wine and we enjoy that pleasure together as often as we can.

About the time Mum discovered information about her mother and brother in New Zealand and with Barbara and Leslie heading for a Catholic High school, she decided that she was in fact a bad mother bringing up “Heathens” and that we should all go to Church each week. This was a regular battle for her – sorry Mum, I know your intentions were pure and right, but the Catholic Church was not for me. No amount of protest would dissuade her, and we were sent off to Sunday school classes before becoming Confirmed.

I recall being allowed a sleep in one Sunday morning during this process and when we later met with the Priest he quizzed us on the mass – Mum had told us to pretend like we were actually there but the more lies we told the deeper in trouble we got. After Mum got a telling off from the old Priest (which she humbly accepted), we all laughed very hard about it.

From my 15th birthday, I was allowed to not attend Church anymore, but it was those foundations that later helped me to explore my own faith in a time of need. Apart maybe from the darkest, saddest days after Dad died, I never questioned Mum’s faith or her integrity to her faith. Mum has been a visible leader as a solid Christian woman all her life, a great humble example for all of her children and our children. I will say that if the size of her favourite Necklace Cross that Dad had custom made for her is proportional to God’s favour, then Mum will be the first to heaven.

Another thing that didn’t really come out in the book is how outrageous Mum has always been and still is! When it comes to parties she loves getting dressed up in a new outfit, dancing and having absolute fun, attracting people from all generations to join and enjoy the party. Our family home in Greystanes was warm, happy, and welcome to all our friends. Our friends loved coming over because it was such an easy-going place and Mum was always really happy to see and interact with them.

Andrew would live at our place for a week at a time most school holidays, Scott would come over after school for a feed, some of my first innocent romances were with Barb’s friends who loved our place as much as their own. “Read Parties” were famous and enthusiastically attended – always too much food, plenty of grog, lively music, dancing, with Mum always first on the dance floor and lots of fun till really late. GT would sleep on the couch, and all was good next day.

Another thing that is understated in Mum’s book is the fact that every day she went out of her way to try to build people up, never criticising anyone and never tearing anyone down. It is another aspirational quality that comes so naturally to Mum that is often so hard for other people. My kids were endlessly told, “build people up, don’t tear them down” mainly when talking about sibling rivalry… another gentle teaching from Nana.

Despite that, Mum was no pushover, and would always stand up for herself and her family. On one occasion when I was about 10 years old, Mum and I were shopping together, she in nursing uniform after having worked all night. We were stuck in a big line when a belligerent lady tried to push in front of several people with her shopping trolley. Everyone else avoided any confrontation but Mum swiftly persuaded her to go to the end of the line, putting her in her place without causing a fuss.

When I was 17, I went on cruise in Sydney harbour with some mates. Unlimited Alcohol was included, and we stupidly got our monies worth. On the train home, we were attacked by a gang of street kids and beaten up pretty badly until the police came and broke it up.

All of my friends were scared to call their parents, worried that they would get in trouble. I was amazed at their fear. I said no problem, I’ll ring my parents and they will pick us up. Mum and Dad were waiting for us at the train station at about 4am and after stemming the bleeding, took us to the hospital to get patched up. Mum and Dad have always been those safe people to call in any emergency, always there supporting us no matter what the situation.

Mum is the least judgmental person you could meet and even though months might go by without us seeing each other she always easily fit back into the family when she would come away on Family holidays. Mum came away once or twice a year for week+ long holidays since I moved to Queensland to places like Rainbow Beach, Ballina, Lismore (for Finn’s Cricket Tournaments) or just our home resort at Brookfield. Mum would even come up to just watch Finn and I play cricket, sitting in her dedicated lounge chair in the shade and spending the whole 6 hours cheering us on from the sidelines, reading the newspapers to catch up on the world, then reading her fiction books, eating her treats from the local bakery, and then occasionally even having a little snooze.

Her presence was appreciated by all, and no one grew tired of having her around in the middle of the family – playing hours of board games, puzzles, cards, and other games to the delight of Edin, Nadia and Finn. Monopoly sometimes going for days… Mum is always present and encouraging even as the competitive kids got upset with their latest turn of bad luck… Mum’s presence was also soothing to the many family and marriage tensions that would come to light when you are living together… and would give gentle advise about taking care of yourself and ensuring respect.

For the years leading up to the dissolution of my marriage and while suffering a bit of depression, Mum was one of the few people in the world that I could truly open up to and share the reality of what I was living (that most of the rest of the world couldn’t see) and then ask for and get caring advice of what I could do better… Mum was a rock, supportive, positive and encouraging, Thank You Mum…

There is probably no greater testament to you as a Mum than how your children turn out. Forgetting the irrelevant status, financial and career stuff, it is amazing to see my two sisters Barbara and Leslie and my brother John as loving, respectful, and dedicated parents modelling many of the amazing qualities that you continue to model for us.

As a family member that has been living mostly interstate but visiting regularly, I am eternally impressed and grateful for the generous way that Barbara, Leslie and John have looked after Mum, each other and each other’s kids (a true reflection of Mum’s easy-going and accommodating nature, care of others and generosity) including massive life changing things like:

Barbara, Leslie and John all followed in Mum’s footsteps by working, for extended periods, looking after other people in nursing homes (Nadia has also chosen RN as her career – directly influenced by her Nana).
Barbara and Matt giving Leslie an opportunity for work in England when Leslie was at a turning point and had possibly lost a little direction and confidence. From that hand-up Leslie and Barbs have both reached lofty heights and have significant positive impact on others.
Barbara inviting Mum to live with her as part of her family overseas and then in St Ives for many years. My visits to England, Florida, and St Ives to be immersed in Barb’s family and with Mum while travelling on business, visiting for Christmas or holidays, or just passing through were the highlights of my weeks and create very sentimental memories. Incredible Barbs…
Leslie inviting Mum to live with her beautiful family and then buying a house together with Mum that has a perfect Granny Flat. Tony is from the same “others-focussed” mould and regularly helps Nana with a range of tasks. Leslie and Tony – you are amazing people
John and Claire selflessly and frequently running around to accompany Mum to appointments, looking after her needs and generally help out. Thanks John and Claire.
Leslie organising amazing parties for Nana’s 75th and 80th birthdays and an incredible family weekend at the Fitzroy Inn…

John, Les and Barbs, I am incredibly proud to be your brother and admire Mum’s qualities that also shine through you.

Final points:

Mum you question whether your father could have had Maori blood. Well, you know that growing up, I thought the Read noses were more than likely Maori in shape. I hope I am right. The thought of being partly descended from the proud Maori people would be an honour. Although it didn’t really help my rugby…

You also say that Dad was never violent, which on the most part was absolutely true. However, one time down The Land, I persuaded John to hop on the handlebars of my BMX bike which I had modified to not have any brakes. We were hurdling down the fire trail out of control when I hit a particularly large bump. John flew forwards off the handlebars and I of course continued forward running him over with the bike.

It sounds dangerous but it’s okay - I was not hurt. John, however, did sustain some vicious cuts, bruises and grazes on his torso and head (that might explain some other things). Anyway, John was crying so I helped him back to the cabin and Dad came to find out what the racket was about. When he saw John’s injuries and heard what I had done, he said “how am I going to explain that to your mother?” and threw his mug of hot tea at me, over arm. If he was a better throw, it could have done some real damage. I think that was the only time that I saw him truly lose his temper… but I just thought I should set the record straight.

Hopefully there is some information in the stories above that give even more insight to the amazing person that is Mum (Nana) and the incredible difference she has made to so many people.

Thankyou Mum – you are a truly special person and also the most amazing Mum… your support and love is endless and so core to who I am. It is also an understatement to say that Edin, Nadia and Finn all adore you and Wendy and Zara already feel so connected and comfortable with you.

Chris Read