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  • It was exactly twenty four hours since my Mother had died.

    My mind was racing and I couldn’t sleep. I got up and went and sat on the back deck, looking at the stars. The magnificent burning balls of gas, many of them older that our human brains can comprehend, stars that had sat in those heavens and looked down in silent witness on the evolution of life on earth and the loves, wars, passions, mundanity of human existence.

    I remembered though, that even a star has a life cycle, the small part of the universe I could see would not be the same for eternity. The two things that are certain in life are that things will change and all living things end. I watched the stars of the Southern Cross fade one by one as the sun rose and heralded the beginning of another day.

    It was still early, everyone else was still asleep…what would I say as my Mother's eulogy? My Mother was a born story teller and I was desperate to do her justice.

    I started writing. The words flowed easily, all that was needed was to clarify a few stories with Dad, fill in the outline of some places with my brother and sister, and do a good edit. Even so, the eulogy consumed me for four days, I barely slept and my mind ticked over.

    My Mum had so many stories, condensing them and culling them for her eulogy was near on impossible.

    So, here I am, attempting to take her place as the family story teller, the keeper of memories.

    As Beverley would often say "let me tell you a story"...........
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