A little like the author, I had not considered the issue of voluntary euthanasia. Nikki had her life upended when her mother ended her life. The author has a way with words, such a smart woman, and in this book the words are presented sometimes in small pieces, broken up in such a way that sometimes a handful of words are remarkably intense; sparse. Powerful. Her use of language and imagery is extraordinary. Her mother ran to the beat of her own drum. Oppressed after decades in domesticity, born Elaine and changing it to the racier Elayn, she was not destined to be one of her own generation. She’d have been more at home in her daughter’s times, able to work and be less encumbered.
Nikki Gemmell lost her mother to suicide. This book covers the journey of mother and daughter that was extremely fractured, and the author takes us from early childhood to the end of her mother’s life. We see how this changes not only the author’s life, her siblings, but that of Nikki’s own immediate family, and the way they coped with the aftermath. I met her at an event and when I look back on the timing, she would have only lost her mum months prior. She was lovely and quirky, but it goes to show, life goes on. Goodness this lady can tell a story.
The thread which is quite literal in parts of this story is the re-joining of handmade glass lanterns that smashed after her mother’s death. She goes into detail about how these can be repaired, and I note that she has worked hard on forgiveness, empathy and the trying to work out things, backwards, from death. This is the Japanese art of kintsugi where broken pottery becomes repaired with fine lines of gold adhesive. This creates a metaphor of her fractured upbringing and hopeful repair of her soul in recovery. Nikki Gemmell has an amazing gift.
I have many quotes which I will include, but the tragedy here, to me, is a mother treating her daughter with such disdain (put downs and terrible words to a young and innocent girl and woman), allowing her insecurities and I supposed undiagnosed personality disorders to treat her daughter with aloofness and disconnect. The opposite to this tragedy is the smart and courageous daughter who gets through this and puts the lessons learned from this into an amazing mother child relationship in the next generation. There is much to talk about here regarding end-of-life laws, organisations etcetera, but I will focus on Nikki and her relationships, and what she learned. I was smiling as I read the music played at the funeral service was by Gurrumul, I love him, and of course, the majority of Elayn’s friends did not know who this was.
The embracing of individual choice is the mark of a mature nation.
Elyan never felt old, in the way women a generation or two ago were little old ladies from their fifties onwards, faded into invisibility by the years.
I’d always mute myself with apology. Didn’t have it in me to attack with that most wounding weapon of all, silence. With her final act Elayn had destroyed me. I fought for so long to not have her get to me. She has triumphed. I have lost. I am blindsided. By love.
My Snoopy diary, aged fourteen, records Elayn saying that no one would care if I died, that I was a slut, a slob.
That she had her dash with her own children, that she had wanted to live her own life now, that young children were depleting.
’Tell your father the maintenance is due.’ ‘Get the towels, bitch.’ ‘No one likes you.’ ‘I wish I had ______ as my daughter, not you.’ Elayn made me feel grubby, grubby I couldn’t get rid of.
I have a healthy respect for NG.
What I’ve learnt: that as a parent, we cannot rigidly shape our children’s lives no matter how much we would like to. We have to step back and watch them bloom into who they are meant to be, whether we like it or not. We have to step back with understanding, and love.
I am sorry this review is so long, and that the portions I included are negatively posed. I just like to really think about NG’s resilience, empathy, and strength. She has been through so much.