Easter Saturday was the day our family’s queen died – and Terry ‘Tez’ Farquharson, did it beautifully | Amanda Blair

My mother in law taught me many things in our decades together. Her last lesson may be her most beautiful, writes Amanda Blair.

Amanda Blair’s mother in law Dr Terry Farquharson sings American Pie by Don McLean with her family on Easter Saturday.

My mother-in-law taught me many things over our 29 year relationship. I’d come from a rather dysfunctional family and found myself married into what can best be described as a happy, chortling functional one.

Michael’s mum, Terry “Tez” Farquharson, was the centre of this whirling, swirling band of merry

men (and women) and I was fascinated to watch her at work.

Amanda Blair’s mother in law Dr Terry Farquharson passed away on Easter Saturday.

It took ages for me to realise that this was real, this is how people behave when not constantly at war. They weren’t on their best behaviour just because I was around.

I waited, coiled like a spring in the corner, for something to go tits up, to find their flaw, to witness a brawl or for a relative to come staggering out of the past with a picnic basket full of dark family secrets.

I reckon I was six years in before I came to the somewhat boring realisation that there wasn’t going to be any drama. They were a nice family with a nice mum whom they all adored.

She was calm and consistent, made a mean lasagne, always remembered birthdays, was a lovely back-patter when required, was supportive but not pushy, showed an interest in people.

She was passionate about politics, her golf swing, Richmond FC, Rockford Basket Press, open fires and her children and grandchildren.

She was a loyal and trusting friend and an excellent GP who truly cared about her patients, often accepted vegetables for payment or made late-night house calls.

She was just “a good bird” to coin a phrase she oft used for others.

Amanda Blair’s family with their beloved matriarch, Tez. Picture: Supplied

Her four kids would always ring her or spend time with her on Mother’s Day.

This year there will be no phone call and no brunch as she died on Easter Saturday as mentioned in my last column. She chose to end her three-year battle with lung cancer peacefully and quietly in a palliative care ward surrounded by her husband, brother and four children.

We made the trip to Melbourne listening to podcasts and stopping for far too many toilet breaks thanks to the kids’ giant Stanley Cups.

There was an elephant in the car we tried to avoid – the person at the centre of our family was going to die in four days’ time. How would we feel, what would we do and how do you say goodbye?

Fortunately, Tez had taken care of all that, she was in charge right up until the end, it was all business.

All we had to do was show up, preferably with some Gaganis Tarama – a feature of her “death row” menu.

I schlepped three tubs of her fave over in an Esky, which she shared with guests. She farewelled them with a cheery “see you on the other side”.

There were tissues in the room that we took full advantage of, but she didn’t use them once.

I suspect she didn’t want to burden us further with her emotions, she didn’t want us to be sad so she kept the mood light. Well, as light as you can when you’re about to shuffle off this mortal coil.

We all got some bedside time and she gave the grandkids some final sage advice, “be brave” “enjoy your travels”, “study hard”, “be good”.

She told me I made an excellent tuna mornay, which is high praise.

She’d arranged her funeral, her cremation, her death notice. She organised a family and closest friends party on Good Friday in the courtyard of the hospital where, attached to the finest medical-grade oxygen, she drank expensive red wine, said more goodbyes, then – when only the family were left – she suggested we have a sing-a-long.

We sat in the dark in a circle, holding hands, singing Sweet Caroline and Don McLean’s American Pie.

When Don sang the line “This’ll be the day that I die” Teza threw back her head and laughed and said, “No guys, that’s tomorrow” then took another sip of red.

We sobbed, we laughed and sobbed some more. We gave her an “archway of honour” as her wheelchair was pushed back to the ward and she waved to us like she was the Queen.

She was our queen and she faced her death bravely, honestly and without fanfare – just like she lived her life.

Tomorrow was the day that she died and, boy, she did it beautifully.

Originally published as Easter Saturday was the day our family’s queen died – and Terry ‘Tez’ Farquharson, did it beautifully | Amanda Blair