I can’t work out what the fuss is about… Everyone seems to be running around my bed, anxious, giving me attention. I really just want to get up and paint, colour my palette, dream of scenes in my minds eye and get busy….can’t everyone leave me alone for a while!

My name is Peggy Eileen Keppell and I am 29 kgs. I’m not as brave as everyone says, just determined. Life is not about what happens to you, but how you react to it, learn from it and keep going forward. I just don’t know how to stop trying, bouncing back from life’s challenges. Michael, my son, believed my 29 kgs was a new weight category called ‘Peggy-weight’. It was supposedly pure spirit and courage. Again, I’m not sure what the fuss is all about…

I was born in Warwick on July 1, 1927 and my name Peggy was due to my dad’s fondness of the song ‘Peggy-Sue’. The reason for Eileen escapes me although it does mean ‘light’ in Irish which is fitting as I fill my scene with shades of light and colour. O’Connor the name I was born with is quintessentially Irish and the jokes abound about my Irish logic. I always blamed it on my Irish heritage. I came from a large Catholic family and my parents were Nessie and William, with Pat then Betty, Joan and Joy (the triplets) as sisters and Morgan, Geoff and John as brothers. My dad was known as ‘Scissors’ O’Connor because of his speedy nature on the football field, although his height genes became a family discussion point being five foot and a fraction! My mother had alabaster skin and I remember her being so beautiful. One of my first memories was watching the triplets trying to crawl in different directions across the floor. They were unexpected and dad and mum carried them carefully home in shoe boxes. This was at the start of the Great Depression, so their sleeping arrangements involved padding the open drawers of a duchess in mum and dad’s room with soft clothes. I loved school although I had to leave early in order to help out as there were many mouths to feed in the household.

I married Fred when I was 19. He was brash and confident and very different to me. He had just returned from World War II and had seen the world – more of it then he wanted to. We complemented each other. I was creative and intuitive and Fred was physically strong, determined and gregarious. He was a hard-working man and a good provider. There was something about him which I now see in my children. Together, we have five children, three boys and two girls. Now there are 11 grandchildren, 19 great-grandchildren and even great-great grandchildren. We celebrated 64 years of marriage recently but unfortunately Fred passed away 19 days ago. I was there holding his hand and it was a gentle and quiet passing. I miss him already and thought that I would be the first to go. He was unpredictable as always!

I love being a mother of five. My children (Ronnie, Jennie, Phil, Michael and Anne) are my universe, and I am devoted to them. They are all very different and that’s what makes them so special. They are all here now fussing over me, chatting to me, fluffing my pillows, tucking me under warm blankets and holding my hand. It’s nice having them all in the same room with me – it’s been a while since this has occurred. They have grown up. Some have stayed close-by while others have followed their dreams but still kept close. Again, I’m not sure what the fuss is all about…

I love learning and have always been curious about the world. I never stopped learning simply because it is so much fun. Learning is the best! I remember spending days searching magazines or books to find supportive pieces for assignments and essays for the kids homework. I got into trouble a couple of times for helping out a little too much. More than once a teacher questioned the work of my children at school when they used words well beyond their vocabulary. I even had a few teachers call me and I had to dance around how much I had helped them in their homework. I enjoy encouraging others to strive for their best and although I wasn’t a formal teacher I love to encourage curiosity, encourage reading, and encourage learning. Even at 84 I send email, search the web and play on the iPad – this technology is so fascinating. I don’t know how it works but it is fun to see the art of the world with the simple click of a button – I should say mouse! I always love getting a reply email from Michael from exotic locations.

I would often struggle to pick up some of my heavy coffee table books on art but I love my books and have surrounded myself with them. The standing joke of the family is that Jen had to become a librarian just to support my reading habit! You could say I am addicted to reading and often finish several crime mysteries each week. I’m not sure what is so fascinating about the crime novels, maybe it’s the unexpected twists and turns and the fact they are so different to my quiet nature. I think I like the challengeof working out ‘who did it’ in the crime mysteries just like my cryptic crosswords. I also love gardening and designing my home garden in Tarragindi. It has been my sanctuary, complete with statues. Some of my favourite flowers are orchids and I particularly like the purple flower of the Jacaranda trees. I also like to travel and have managed to traverse the globe travelling around Australia, Norfolk Island, New Zealand, Canada and Hong Kong. I often travel with Michael through his photos of his many expeditions. It is fascinating seeing the world through his eyes and the lens of his camera.

It took me a while to get to it but I would describe myself as an artist. I found something that I am good at and it opened the floodgates into my creative side. This creative outlet has been my sanctuary – my place, and I have been prolific beyond my wildest expectations.  I started as a member of the ‘Art in Bark Association’ and was involved for over 25 years, even becoming a life-member, with many good friends who shared my passion. The kids would always laugh at me when I couldn’t remember how many art-in-bark pieces I have created, sold and won awards for. I then found painting, and the colours that I could use and combine to create a scene are breathtaking. I often sit at my table with my paint smock, concentrating to the exclusion of everything else around me, splattering paint across my smock and everything within a two-metre radius. Somehow I even manage to get paint on the canvas! I often sit painting my colourful scenes, mixing the colours until they are just right for my picture. My paint strokes steadily layer another colour on the canvas as I joyously embrace life. Every second I paint is priceless as I enter a tranquil and peaceful place, becoming lost in the colour of my creation. My artistic name coined by Jen is Peggy K.

I always believe in being gentle with people and try to make everyone I meet feel special. I think my role in life is to show that attitude is everything. Life is about challenges and how you approach and react to them. Sure, I had challenges, but I’ve been lucky and always bounced back even when others thought I couldn’t.  Again, I’m not sure what the fuss is all about in this room…

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I received the call that came all too soon after Dad had just passed away, as Jen described the situation. The phone was placed to her ear as she tried to communicate, tried to say goodbye and tell me how much she loved me. The words did not seem to verbalise the way she wanted – the sounds were coming out but not making sense. I slouched into a chair, tears running down my cheeks, knowing what was coming. I quickly booked the flights, hoping to make it in time before she passed. I needed to be there, mainly for me but hoping I could help this final transition an easy one for my angelic mum. I boarded the flight, horrified at the thought of being out of phone contact for a couple of hours. The flight seemed to take forever as I disembarked and rushed to turn the phone on, hoping that I would make it in time. I hired a car and then drove straight to her. Jen was already there supporting mum as she had done for years. I sat at her side. She was semi-conscious but she knew I was there. I held her hand and read her stories I had written about her, including her conquering Mt. Kilimanjaro every day. I played her music, mainly her favourite ‘Three Tenors’. I held flowers to her nose so she could smell their aroma and beauty, trying everything to make her feel comfortable. I fell asleep next to her bed as she was comforted with strong morphine and cared for gently and respectfully by the carers. A constant stream of family visited as we chatted, joked and tried to let her know that the people who adored her were surrounding her. I finally got to have a shower and then returned. The lighting was low in the room as the inspirational piece of music “Nessun Dorma” built in intensity, reaching its climax as she began to go. Her breathing became less frequent and rhythmical as her tiny frame fought to take air in. Each breath was a little less… Jen and I held each hand and then she quietly passed away…

Jen and Michael are holding my hands and I really just want to get up and paint, colour my palette, dream of scenes in my minds eye and get busy….I know I can’t tell them that because the words, clear in my mind, can’t be communicated. My body is not allowing me to move it. I can still paint in my mind, still create a scene and colour it with my thoughts – where is my paintbrush? Ah, it has finally dawned on me, reminiscing about my wonderful life and its joys and challenges. I wondered why Michael could not understand me when I phoned yesterday. I tried to say how much I loved him but he didn’t seem to hear me. The sounds were coming out…at least I thought so. He’s here playing me music, reading me stories, putting flowers to my nose and holding my hand…. I am holding my favourite paint brush and my palette as a gentle hand beckons me toward the light.

The first thing that I notice is that the clouds are fluffy and lacking in colour. I’ve got a lot of work to do up here, I thought as I mixed my colours and began to paint the canvas of clouds…