My Mother at Butterfly Creek

Eulogy for My Mother

It came out of nowhere. There was no warning that something would happen. To top matters off, it was a rare side effect to a standard practice of treatment.

Yet, my world was flipped upside down in a matter of hours.

On Monday 21st September, 2020 at 6:12 pm, I received an odd text message from my father, stating that my mother had a heart attack and was in transit to Christchurch Hospital. It came through on my smartwatch while I was on the toilet. Let's just say that it was the fastest pee-wipe-and-flush that I have ever done in my life.

(I don't think I'll ever understand why he didn't just phone, but that doesn't matter now.)

I'm going to rush past the chaos that happened that night, because it too doesn't matter at this moment. What does matter is that late on Monday evening, my mother developed a brain bleed as a result of a medication that she was given prior to transport to Christchurch. She had a stroke and slipped into a coma.

On Wednesday 23rd September, 2020 at 1:58pm, she was pronounced brain dead.

I have made so many notes about what happened, trying to reason it all in my head. I'm not sure I'll ever fully reason it. But I try.

What follows is the eulogy that I had read out at my mother's memorial service the following week.

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My daughter hates my Instagram

So, I have been informed on multiple occasions that my daughter hates my Instagram feed. And what she hates about it: all the sunrise photos.

As far as she's concerned, I post way too many sunrise photos. She's never really explained to me what she thinks I should post instead, but apparently, my feed is filled with too much sunshine.

But only yesterday I got the following message from one of my friends.

"I enjoy seeing your sunrise photos. It's nice to put a bit of colour in the day - especially with how crazy things are at the moment."

And this is not the only comment that I have gotten about my sunrise photos. It would appear that many people enjoy my feed because of all the sunrise photos.

So, my daughter thinks my feed is filled with too much sunshine, whereas other people love seeing all that color in a crazy world. What is a girl to do—expect laugh!

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Is the next generation really that disconnected?

There is no doubt about it: the world that I grew up in is gone. It was filled with kids having water fights in the streets, our house being the place where all the hoses seemed to converge. It was bikes and bells, and doing what we could to get the ball away from the dog. It was riding the Tonka toy fashioned to look like a Jeep down the driveway (mom rode that toy down the driveway too). And it was pen pals with snail mail and waiting for the postman to come.

Pay phone

Who remembers these? They used to be on every street corner. Now, you don't seem them at all. At least, that's the case in Christchurch, New Zealand.

You were at the mercy of whatever the TV networks decided to air. You didn’t like what was on, you either lumped it or read a book. Phone conversations were scratchy at best and, in some areas, party lines were still a thing. There were phone boxes on every street corner, and cash paid for everything.

The concept of cell phones didn’t exist in my youth. Car phones were for the rich only. The internet was this unheard-of thing, and modems required you to place the handset from the phone onto this chunky device with pulses and high-pitched noises going down the phone line.

Video calls and streaming your favorite show to a handheld device wirelessly was something seen only in science fiction. Genetic modification of human embryos was the source of freaky war storylines from Star Trek. Yet, here we are.

Science fiction has become science fact. (And yes, genetic modification of human embryos is now science fact.)

Yeah, the world I grew up in is definitely gone, but there will always be those who wish we could go back to the way things were. Their reasoning is often linked to some comment as to how out of touch with the rest of the world the next generation has become—how the next generation is so caught up in an internet world that they're missing the life in the local neighborhoods. In some aspects, I agree with them. But while I would love to cling to those go-outside aspects of the world that have vanished without me even noticing, there are other aspects of this new internet-based world that I have openly embraced and would never look back.

But these changes that I see in my world and in myself, was it really just technology that brought them on? Have we, as a society, really changed all that much?

Has our new level of technology brought about a level of disconnect between the generations that wasn't there before?

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We Let Them In: Is Privacy Dead?

Protecting oneself on the internet is something that I'm highly passionate about. There are so many ways to get into big trouble within our online interactions that I've made it a personal mission to understand the true nature of the dangers out there.

This is the world that my children are growing up in. They have never known a life when the internet didn't exist. Social media in its various forms has become a massive part of the way they're expected to interact with the world at large, and it's my job, as their mother, to ensure that they know how to navigate this internet-based world safely.

With the increase in internet dependency within our daily lives, there are certain questions that have started to leak to the surface of my consciousness. Almost everything that we do is now online, with very few exceptions.

Sure, you have social media, YouTube and blogs, and TV through the internet means that we can watch what we want to watch when we want to watch it. However, you also have online banking, and you can buy your groceries online. I can pay for my car registration and file my taxes online. I order replacement gas bottles for the house through an app on my phone and I can report issues regarding water leaks or other hazards in my neighborhood using a different app.

My children are expected to submit their homework assignments online. They are even required to sit major exams using online tools. When they were still in high school, I got their report cards sent to me through an online website.

My husband gets his payslips online, and I get paid by overseas clients through online services. Even my royalty checks come in through online payments.

Everything about our world has shifted to online.

New Zealand, as a whole, has become a near cashless society, with EftPos found almost everywhere you go. Those payments go through the internet. Sure, I do have some cash in my wallet, but not much. Everything of importance is bought and paid for using online means.

Yes, this shift to an internet-based society has, for the most part, made our lives easier, but has it really made it safer?

How has this push to doing everything online affected our sense of privacy and security?

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The secret weapon against teenagers

Your teenager is home for the holidays and it’s time that they face that diabolical room of theirs.  “I expect you to clean your room.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get around to it.”

Never mind that you have no idea what a round toit actually looks like, but you’ve been told that you need to trust your teen and let them define their own space.

“As long as it’s done today.”

“Geez, mom, just back off.”

You roll your eyes and walk away. Some things just aren’t worth the fight.

A few hours later, an excited teen comes bouncing out of their room. “I’ve cleaned my room. Come see.” (Okay, you might not recognize this particular part of the story, but this is what my daughter does.)

Now, at this point, your hopes aren’t that high. We’ve heard it all before. But you drag yourself out of your comfy spot to go and look at whatever effort they have made in their room—only to discover that a single piece of trash has been removed, but the hallway seems to have barfed their entire wardrobe, and the floor is still this mysterious item never to see the light of day again. Just stepping inside the door is taking your life into your own hands.

Of course, this particular tale normally ends with you, as the parent, staring at your child, questioning what they’ve been doing all day. A few hateful phrases are shouted, amalgamating with a spectacular display of emotions and a “It’s my room!”

Sound familiar? Well, I may have discovered the secret weapon to get those pesky teens to actually clean their rooms. It's called the internet.

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