R .I. P KAREN JEAN LESLIE

Well, my big sis has finally solved the big mystery. She was 68 when she quietly slipped away at a local rest home. She had developed leukemia in the last 12 months. I thought I knew what responsibility meant when I had to choose for her between the options of subjecting her to the pain & indignity of chemotherapy or just to keep her comfortable & let her slip away with dignity. It's relatively easy under the circumstances to choose the latter, but the realities of seeing her slowly ebbing away are different.

You see, it wasn't a choice that she was capable of making for herself. Karen was born mentally & physically handicapped, to a frightened 20 year old whose new husband not only brought the Rubella virus home from military training camp, but also had to leave to serve his country in Egypt, as he had already volunteered for the army. It wasn't as if Dad didn't try hard not to go. He cut off his trigger finger with an axe in an effort to stay home with his new bride. It didn't work, so off he had to go, being invalided home after 3 years with chronic dermatitis & amoebic dysentery. He was , I guess, one of the more fortunate ones, as his battalion was absolutely decimated at Crete.

It took 10 years & my Dad threatening to leave before my Mum overcame her fear sufficiently to consent to trying to have another child,me. Because we lived in the country, I didn't see my big sister as different. She used to go off on her own every morning on the school bus to school, which I thought was pretty exciting. She also used to read me stories every night, running her finger along under the words, to keep her place on the page. Because of this, I could read quite well before I started school.

My Dad finally got sick of nurse maiding trout & wanted to get back into the bush, liking the look of Thames, so off we went. Karen by this time was 15, so Mum & Dad elected not to carry on with her schooling, leaving me to try & become the family genius. Karen stayed home, doing odd jobs to help Mum & churning out dolls clothes on an old hand operated Singer sewing machine & adding to her ornament collection every Xmas & birthday. She soon became a favorite with all the younger girls on the block who loved to play with her collection of dolls, both the paper cut out variety as well as the conventional type as pictured above.


Time passed. Karen turned 50 & Mum turned 70. By this time, Karen had been enrolled in "Occupational Therapy" & used to be collected & go to "Therpy" every Thursday afternoon, sometimes going down to the old folks home at Tararu. When the time came that Mum was too worn out to carry on caring for Karen, the transition to the home was an easy one for her, & on family gatherings when you went & collected her it was heartening to hear her say, "I'd like to go home now please." And home it was. I've lost track of how many potential suitors she outlived, even asking Mum on one occasion if she could get married. For 18 years she made it her home, still very proud of her family. Whenever you went to see her, if there was a lull in the conversation, as there often was, you would be introduced yet again to whoever happened to be within earshot.

In these more enlightened times, Karen would no doubt be introduced to the supported lifestyle system & be integrated into society a bit more, but in those days Mum was given the choice of caring for her at home or institutionalising her in an insane asylum. It says a lot for my Mum that she elected to take the tough option, namely care for her at home for 50 years.

So , she has now gone on, probably to catch up with Dad & all her suitors & all her other friends that have gone on. It was a lovely service. We didn't expect a lot to attend, but it ended up with round 30 people who came to pay their respects. I was even more pleasantly surprised at the number that wanted to stand up & pay their own tribute to my big Sis after I had said my bit. Normally , at such time, there is an embarrassed shuffling & maybe one or two will get up & say a few words. I was nearly killed in the rush. I didn't realise that she had had such a positive impact on so many people's lives.

Goodbye Sis. You set very high standards to follow. I never knew you to drink, smoke, swear, tell lies or say anything derogatory about anyone. Thats a tough act to follow. May the sun forever shine on you, the breeze be fair & warm & the path be smooth & easy. I love you Sis, goodbye.