I met Annette in 1984. I was nine years old and fresh off the plane from England. I had recently acquired a best friend in Australia, Melissa. Her mum was Annette. The last time I saw Annette was on my 40th birthday in June this year. In the intervening 31 years I had the privilege of knowing a woman who was smart, generous, witty, tough, loving and the maker of the best pavlova I have ever tasted.
Back in 1984 I was a nervous kid with a crazy head of hair and a hyperactive imagination. Melissa was my opposite. She seemed to know her place in the world and it was to climb as many things – man-made or natural - as possible. And at her place we climbed everything – the furniture, the tree, the walls (really!), and on the roof. While I fretted about the possible effects of gravity (especially on the roof), Mel was relaxed, assuring me she’d done this “heaps of times.”
One of the reasons for her calm attitude was that Annette and John were so relaxed themselves about these activities. I can remember Annette reminiscing about the first time Mel climbed the backyard tree. Somewhat alarmed to see her four year old a good three metres in the air, she called up to her daughter, “Are you ok up there darling?” Little Melissa sent down reassurances that she was fine, and, in true Annette style, her mother accepted that her child was up a tree and there wasn’t any need to make a fuss. That lack of fuss made the Patterson household a wonderful environment in which to be a child visitor.
Annette was an academic, as is her husband John. She once mentioned to my mum that, before having kids, she had imagined that her future children would “sit around playing musical instruments and reading”. While all three offspring are avid readers, it was more like “run around turning cartwheels” at Mel’s place in the 80’s… but Annette didn’t flinch. That ability to accept and embrace the unexpected is something that I still want to emulate, all these years on. Annette’s calm, open-minded attitude is still alive in her children and I experience it regularly in my beautiful friend Mel.
In fact, that compulsion for movement was indicative of greater talent and Mel was later accepted into the prestigious gymnastics program at the WA Institute of Sport. Annette and John were proud but their greatest concern, always, was that Mel was enjoying herself. I feel like this concern was characteristic of Annette’s approach to life in general – she never seemed to lose sight of the bigger picture.
Thinking back to those days in the mid-1980s, one of my snapshot memories is of going to Target to buy clothes for Mel, her sister Emily and her brother Andrew… with Mel’s dad! The idea that dads could do the shopping while mums worked was utterly revelatory to me. Although I didn’t understand exactly what it meant until I was older, I knew, too, that Annette was writing a PhD. As an 11 year old, these things seeped into my consciousness, opening up my own possibilities.
What sticks with me most, however, when I think about Annette, is her extraordinary mix of toughness and generosity.
When we were in high school, Annette’s close friend Kate passed away, leaving behind a teenage daughter, Emma. Emma was swiftly absorbed into the Patterson family and remains, to this day, a vital cog in the family wheel. Annette’s love and concern for Emma was evident to the end.
Annette was first treated for lymphoma in Perth, around the end of 2005. She was living in the CBD, at the bottom of King Street, just down from His Majesty’s Theatre, and was keen to take advantage of the location. Thus it happened that Annette, Mel, Emily and I booked to see the opera Don Quixote at the theatre. As she was living down the road, Annette proposed that she make us all dinner beforehand. Midway through treatment for cancer, not only did she make us dinner but she prepared both lamb, for those of us who ate meat, and a vegetarian option for those who didn’t, even though she was a vegetarian herself. This wasn’t done with any sense of obligation. Annette just wanted to make us a dinner we would enjoy… and we did – I can still remember the deliciousness of that lamb. That was Annette all over – always participating in life to the full and always ensuring that everyone had a fantastic time.
Perhaps this spirit of generosity runs in the family. Looking back I remember Mel’s Gran, Annette’s mother, was almost always around, helping out in whatever way she could. Although Annette and John were living in Queensland when Mel’s boys, Josh and Ethan, were born, she nonetheless played a huge role in their lives, seeing them regularly and, as they got older, having them for school holiday visits in Sydney so that they didn’t have to spend their school holidays in daycare. Annette took great care to make sure that these holidays were enjoyable and (preferably) educational for the boys, planning an array of activities and outings, about which I have heard much from Josh and Ethan. The love that flowed between Nanna and Josh and Ethan was a beautiful thing to behold.
While I was shocked to learn that, after many years in remission, Annette had again been undergoing treatment for cancer prior to her passing, on reflection I was not surprised that she had elected not to share this news. Annette valued life and living it to the full. She didn’t want to live, or be treated like an ill person and it is a tribute to her resilience that she continued to be actively engaged with the world around her until days before her death.
To John, Mel, Emily, Andrew and Emma, to Alan, Carole, Cathy, to Josh, Ethan, Sam, Cody and Aayden, and to all Annette’s close friends, I’m heart-broken for you. May Annette live on in all our hearts and memories.