Tribute
My grandmother Joan Brown was put quite simply the most wonderful and caring woman I have ever met, she had an air of strength and dignity around her that could not be equalled by anyone.
Joan and Noel’s marriage by today’s standards was quite unique. All the time I lived with them and the weekends I spent there before I moved in never once did I hear an angry word spoken, although Grandpa did often refer to having Grandma flashed her blue eyes at him every time he did something or made some comment that she did not find appealing. Up until a year or so before Grandma was unable to walk unsupported, it was not uncommon to hear Joan squealing as Noel chased her up the driveway, for what reason this was I don’t know!
Over the four years I lived with Grandma and Grandpa, Joan became more of a mother than a Grandmother to me, her constant presence and ever watching eye is something that I will never forget about her. I used to work at a service station and the shifts there would quite often end fairly late, and every time I got home without fail I would hear footsteps coming down the hallway, and it would be Grandma coming to check to see if I had eaten properly and what time I had to be up for school in the morning.
One thing about Joan that will stand out in the minds of those who knew and loved her was the silent dignity that she carried with her right until the last days of her life, even when I saw her lying in bed in hospital you could feel it and see it on her face, she was not going to let this cruel illness rob her of what pride she had.
It has been two months since Joan passed away, and even now if you visit the family home in Templestowe everywhere you turn you can seen a little piece of her, in the way the house is decorated, even right down to the lingering smell of her perfume. As long as that house stands, her memory will live on.
By Adam Cantwell
