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"Mum grew up just round the corner from where we are now, Dave and Kath’s only child. She talked about her childhood with great fondness, despite difficult periods when Kath would take to her bed and Denise and “daddy” would look after the house. She grew up with a love of animals, music and reading, attended St. Joseph's and eventually went to college and qualified as an infant's teacher, her first gig on the lake at Wangi Wangi. It was around this time that she first encountered the dashing young Michael Braggett, and although it was a bit of a “slow burn”, they were married in 1959 and the rest, as they say, is history!
Universally loved and admired, Mum carved out a career in teaching, raised 4 children, ran a lively household, supported a busy husband and even after retirement, volunteered as a docent at the Newcastle Art Gallery. She was a highly intelligent, cultured and loving presence in our lives, yet I’m going to outline some of the quirkier aspects of the mother we all knew so well.
Mum the athlete: Mum’s idea of walking consisted of the short walks to her car and back. Mum reckons she played tennis as a teenager, but I never saw her take part in any sporting or exercise activity apart from the “Alexander Technique”, which seemed to consist of lying still on the floor with a paperback under her head.
Mum the dietician: Despite raising us on a healthy diet of meat and three veg, mum herself wasn’t overly fond of fresh vegetables and as the years went by, she was increasingly drawn to desserts and other sweeties as her staples. She spread lashings of butter on toast and cakes as well as squeezing lemon on just about everything else. She also had exacting requirements for presenting food: making a sandwich for her was a difficult task ruled by size and quantities and even the shape of the completed sandwich! This paled in comparison, however, to making a pot of tea, the rituals of which made a formal Japanese tea ceremony look like child’s play!
Mum the singer: Singing for the little kiddies at school accompanied by piano playing was one thing, but there was nothing like our nervous anticipation of the 1st hymn at mass each week. Mum’s superb soprano voice would soar above all others as she sang with great volume and gusto, leaving us squirming with embarrassment! Later on, we were quite proud of mum the singer but earlier on, not so much!
Mum the zen master: When I was six, I saw a sash window fall at our old house in Pride Avenue, and cut most of mum’s fingers, which were dripping with blood. She cried, but only silently, so as not to upset her little children. This serene calm became a hallmark and there are countless examples over the years. Mum never voiced a word of complaint when Kiss or AC/DC was playing at ear-splitting volume when she returned home from work each afternoon, but she did break with tradition once when I gave her a mouthful of cheek, kicking me up the backside when I ran past only to break her toe in the process! When I crashed her car through the back garage wall, after getting my feet caught up in the pedals in my first driving lesson and as I sat shocked with debris strewn all over the car, mum calmly stated, “Perhaps you’d be better off not wearing thongs next time”! I also remember arriving home from Japan after nearly two years away and mum said, “Oh, hello there you’re back!” as if I’d just stepped out to get some milk!
Mum the medical expert: Despite no formal training in the medical field, mum had an encyclopaedic knowledge of most medical ailments, especially anything she, or the family, was inflicted with. Mum took her role as a doctor’s wife quite seriously and seemed to absorb knowledge from Dad by osmosis. She could rattle off the Latin root names of all manner of diseases and ailments, sometimes with tongue twisting dexterity...which allows me to neatly segue to...
Mum the linguist: Mum pronounced words with such confidence and gravitas, that most were unlikely to question, let alone challenge, their accuracy. She’d occasionally drop one or more into conversations, with “menu” and “ceramic” springing to mind. She even pronounced some French or Japanese words in front of Cassy and me with such authority that we questioned ourselves and had to look them up when we got home!
Mum the practical joker: Mum always enjoyed a good laugh, yet she rarely initiated the joke herself. One notable exception was at Dad’s 60th birthday party. held in this very room. Throngs of family and friends were gathered, canapes were nibbled and the champagne was flowing. The catering also included some cakes for dessert, including a large lemon tart emblazoned with the word “Citron” in large letters and chocolate writing. Father Gerard Mackie, one of the friends in attendance, asked mum about the word’s significance. Quick as a blink, deadpan mum replied, “Oh, that’s an old family name of the Braggetts, in fact, it’s Michael’s middle name.” Father Mackie then, armed with such interesting conversational fodder, proceeded to tell most of the room, until sheepishly, mum had to publicly declare that “Citron” was not actually dad’s middle name after all!
I could talk about “Mum the teacher” where she had enormous respect from all her colleagues, including some of my friends with whom she worked, “Mum the philanthropist”, who sponsored all sorts of worthwhile causes over the years, even winning a car through a charity lottery once! There are countless other facets of mum to speak of and remember but mostly, of course, “Mum the mum”. She had an enormous impact on our lives and we miss her in all sorts of ways and we find ourselves thinking of her daily. We love and miss you, mum! "
Here's an album I've made of some photos of mum.