Joyce’s Life Story – Some of it.

I like writing life stories.  Real life stuff – though I do also write fiction.  I am a qualified trainer of the Birren Centre for Autobiographical Studies. I have worked with several people on their life stories and have done workshops based on the learning from the Birren Centre. I also do talks on “Writing your own Obituary”.

People’s life stories are fascinating. I learned the value of life stories, when I was a nurse – in fact, during my nursing training way back in 1964, I nursed an elderly lady who had an interesting story to tell. I sat with her during her last days, as she told me about her life as a sex worker and she mentioned the name of one of her clients – a famous local man. I have always wondered if it was true – anyway it was a good story.

Mother – Ida Joyce

Recently I have been working on my mother’s story. She passed away in 2014, in a nursing home in Adelaide, South Australia where she had lived for several years due to her dementia.

She was born in 1915, and had a very difficult life, though very interesting and did some amazing things. Mum, (Ida Joyce, but always called Joyce) was born near Mt Barker, in the hills around 40 kms from Adelaide, South Australia. Her only brother Oswald was born in 1911, sister Winifred in 1912, Lenore in 1914, Beatrice in 1917, and Doris was born in 1919.

I can only imagine how tough life would have been for my grandparents running a farm and looking after 6 children, with no running water, no electricity, only a horse and cart for transport, and all the other challenges of life in the early days. My grandparents grew their own vegetables and of course, had chickens and cattle for food. But it was in the Depression and things didn’t go well, so they packed everything and everyone on the cart, and the poor horse (or maybe horses – could have been two of them) set off on the long 40-kilometre hour trip on dirt roads to their new abode in the suburbs of Adelaide.

The children were educated at a local school, and after finishing high school, Mum went on to take up a few jobs before joining the Australian Military Forces in 1942.  It was during her time in the Army that she met Colin, who was also in the Forces, and they married in 1943. As World War was still in action, life was very difficult. In fact, when my mother was pregnant (with me!) the local hospitals were full of injured soldiers and there was no place for a woman to give birth. My father rode a bicycle around Adelaide until he found a hospital prepared to help my mother welcome me.

The next few years, until the end of the War, life was still very difficult – accommodation was difficult and eventually Mum and Dad and other relatives lived with my grandparents. They grew their own vegetables and fruit, and with other the difficulties because of the war, it was a hard life.

My mother never “worked” again, except for her family.  Soon there were 2 children, and Mum endured a couple of miscarriages too. No help or support like there is in the modern world.

She volunteered when and where she could. Soon she was at art classes and subsequently producing great artwork.  She won several awards. Then she took on floral art.  She grew a lot of flowers and soon she was winning more awards. Then it was cake decorating.  Not only did she grow flowers, but vegetables, fruit and nuts. My sister and I helped her often preparing the fruit for jams and preserves.

Girl Guides

After my sister and I joined Girl Guides, my mother became a leader – she became a “Brown Owl” – leader of a junior Guide group (Brownies), and over the next few years rose to take on the role of Commissioner.  We were so proud of her.

As life went on and she and my father moved to a country town, Mother was a volunteer with an art group and continued helping others as she had always done.

She relied on my father for money, and he was a good husband and father, but very “old school”.  She did get a driver’s licence when I was in my late teens, but though she had the funds, she did not want to buy her own car, and my father would not let her drive “his” car after a near disaster when she nearly drove through a petrol bowser!

So, she spent her life looking after her husband and two daughters, until they left home, and contributing to art and floral groups and volunteering at her church from time to time.

My sister on the left, Mother in the middle, and me on the right.

My father passed away in 2011 and she left this world in 2014, just short of her 99th birthday.

I ask everyone to write their story, and/or record the stories of family members.