16 June 2023, Williamstown, Victoria, Australia
Firstly, on behalf of the family, I’d like to thank every one of you for coming today. It is no surprise to know that Anne was able to touch so many lives in the course of her own but it is heartwarming nonetheless to see what that looks like, also knowing that there are many more people who send their love and well wishes even if they can’t be here with us today.
Before I talk more about Anne and our experience with her, I’d like to touch a little bit on her illness. Seven weeks ago, Anne was outwardly fine. Even when she first had symptoms, she thought little of it… so little of it in fact that she didn’t seek medical help. She had other things to do and didn’t want to cause a fuss. Her housemate Gemma eventually spoke up, reaching out to the family because she was worried about Anne. We took the choice out of Anne’s hands but even then we didn’t seem to have much to worry about. That was just over six weeks ago. None of us knew at the time, but Anne had already spent her last night out of hospital.
I want to share a few lessons we’ve learnt from Anne’s life today, and that is the first. Speaking up for those you care about can be such an important thing. Anne’s reluctance to cause a fuss was one of many things we loved about her however in this case, by someone speaking up, by starting treatment, futile as it may have been from the beginning, we were bought invaluable time with her. We owe Gemma a tremendous debt of gratitude.
They say that only the good die young, and I suppose Anne very much showed that. She was so good, to so many people in so many ways, and she was far too young to bring us together like this. It seems so deeply unfair, and I’ve spent a lot of the last week wanting to take all of my sadness and frustration and hurt and anger and yell it into the void, as if it might ascribe some blame to some power that be. However, I know Anne would never be one for that sort of futile action. EVen at the last, she was very particular with the things and the people she used energy on, and she would choose to seek the good.
She wasn’t always like that though, and the simple fact is I can’t stand here and say what a wonderful sister she’s always been because she wasn’t always. Louis recalls his first day of school when Anne told him his socks were on the wrong feet. He dutifully took his shoes and socks off- a slow task for a five year old- and switched the socks. Once he had his shoes back on, Anne once again insisted they were on the wrong feet, so he took them off and switched them again. Anne walked on. Louis was nearly late for his first day of pre-primary. I’m somewhat impressed by the depth of calculation that shows. Anne herself was only seven at the time and executed that with skill far beyond her years. I remember similar experiences growing up. Anne was never violent, however she was very clever when it came to teasing her two younger brothers (she was generally quite good with the youngest, Peter). Indeed, her method was generally to do something or say something that would stay with you. She chose torment over actually torture, calculation over callousness. She made it so I would doubt everything I did. If I did it poorly, it was because of my own faults, yet if I did something too well she’d remind me that I’d put in too much effort and that would never win me respect. Eventually- mercifully- she moved away, and when she returned, by which point myself and Louis were into adult life, we found that she seemed to have forgotten all about the 18 years prior, reaching out to us to spend time together when our paths crossed and being open to chatting whenever we felt like it. We pushed on, cautiously optimistic at first, wondering what ulterior motive she had, but in no time at all she had gone from the older sister everyone imagines to the older sister everyone wants. Having lived so far for so long I know Anne was always keen to catch up whenever one of us flew cross country, and we’d often message about all sorts of things. A few years back when I was on a game show, Anne drew a design, and organised tshirts to be printed so everyone who attended the filming could show their support. She did that all herself with no prompt or push from anyone; it’s just something she wanted to do for her brother. Whenever one of us had a new tattoo, we’d excitedly share it, and knowing Anne’s appreciation of tattoos you can imagine that meant we chatted reasonably frequently. That being said, and as much as Anne would never be one to brag, I doubt I was the only one excitedly contacted when the official Mad As Hell instagram reposted a tattoo that Anne had got of the kraken from that show. Ever Anne, she mused a few weeks ago how great a loss it was that no one would be able to appreciate her tattoos much longer. Having a love of theatre, I was always immensely proud of Anne whenever a set she worked on made it to Perth, perhaps none moreso than the production of Matilda. Anne had made a very small error when painting with a stencil, nearly impossible to spot unless she told you about it beforehand, but seeing that gave me tremendous pride that it was her work making its way around the country.
In terms of family, Anne’s greatest impact was on her three nieces. Sophia, Eleanor and Lucy all had a terrific role model, the magnitude of which I’m sure anyone with a wonderful aunt or uncle can appreciate. Sophia and Eleanor spent a great deal of time with Anne doing all sorts of activities and learning a great deal. When my daughter Lucy was born, with the WA borders at the time impenetrable, we would frequently get postcards and pictures she’d drawn of us, generally out of the blue. The one time- and how we rue now that it was only one time- Anne spent time with Lucy, we expected that she’d have the same experiences as anyone else new, and Lucy would be troublesome. We were impressed but not surprised to find that was not at all the case; Lucy had a great time, and settled down when she needed to. I feel the three nieces owe some of the tremendous fortitude they’ve shown throughout this whole experience to Anne’s influence. I believe it is Anne’s three beloved nieces who have lost the most.
Last August, Anne, Louis and myself travelled to the US for a family reunion, and since I travelled separately I arrived slightly later. Anne and Louis hired a car and drove from LA to San Francisco, and I recall a pang of envy seeing their adventures, not at what they were doing, but the time they were having. I suppose that sums up the sort of older sister Anne had become. Her and I travelled on together to New York from there, we spent the first day driving to a theme park, and whether out of thriftiness or just wanting me to be happy, we ran around the quiet park getting all the rides done as quickly as we could. I was immensely frustrated with her the next day, as we were right there in the Big Apple, and yet Anne elected to sleep in. She had had let me have the main bed and she took the couch in the living room so I didn’t want to wake her. I was then amazed, and again frustrated, that when I went into the city to try to fit as much adventure in as I could, Anne stayed in and took advantage of access to Netflix. Reflecting on this now, I see that as frustrating as it was, it was simply Anne being Anne. She’d identified that our accommodation had all the tools to keep her happy and comfortable, so why would one leave a cool, air conditioned space where she could do something she knew she’d enjoy, to go out in the heat and humidity for something you might not enjoy at all. As I said, Anne was always very particular about what she put her effort towards.
There’s so much than can give one pause when a loved one is facing a health battle. Partially because there is a lot of waiting to be done, but also how unusual it is to see so much of a hospital. What struck us all throughout Anne’s journey was how she was unwavering in the parts of her that made her, her. She was surprisingly philosophical throughout. Early on, when she was advised that treatment would have to begin as soon as possible, she quoted MacBeth; “'If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well / It were done quickly.”
Anne was always pragmatic, and whilst she was talking about treatment at the time, I feel that she would have applied it to the bigger picture.
What was particularly noteworthy, though perhaps not at all surprising, was how kind Anne was to those she dealt with. Anne slept in 12 different hospital rooms in her journey. Plans and ideas changed daily. The only thing consistent with the news she received was the fact that it kept getting worse. If ever there was a time for someone to be forgiven for letting a negative emotion slip, this was it. Yet Anne always listened and said thanks. It was truly amazing to see Anne calmly and kindly deal with the very worst news one can get, the very worst conversation one can have with a doctor, and ensure she said thankyou as the doctor left. Indeed, even as energy failed her and the mere task of speaking became unduly tiresome, she still made very sure to be thankful. Thanking her doctors and nurses was something she just did. Anne thanking her doctors and nurses were the last words I ever heard her speak.
People may imagine that with the benefit of foresight one might contribute to this sort of thing before they pass. I did try to discuss it with Anne, but as I said, she was unwavering in being herself. She made a joke then changed the subject and carried on as if I’d never mentioned it. I suppose that in life, as with her bullying at a young age, Anne left us to think about our lessons rather than teaching us directly.
She taught us that people like her don’t exist in a vacuum. If she had all the tools needed to be a kind, caring person, I’ll bet the rest of us do too.
She taught us that who we are at our worst is who we truly are. For Anne, those two personas were one and the same. We can only strive to ensure we can say the same for ourselves.
She taught us that success and money aren’t the same thing. In terms of possession and money, I can’t think of anyone I know who had less than Anne. But if we define success as spending your time doing what you enjoy, then I know no one more successful.
And she taught me that you’re very unlikely to regret hugging someone you care about, and telling them how important they are. However, she also taught me that you might well regret waiting too long to start doing that.