Monica was the eldest of two children. Born in 1927, when her parents lived in Kogarah. Her brother John was five years younger. She said in some ways she was like an only child.

The story was her mother walked up and down Macquarie St in the City to find a specialist who could tell her why Monica had a swollen stomach and was so unwell all the time. She wasn’t expected to turn two years old. Miss Jones, who was a District Health nurse, came back from the USA and told her mother, “I know what Monica has. It’s Coeliac Disease.” Her mother made a cooked breakfast for her daily. This loving and diligent act kept her alive.

Years later, as an adult, a Dr commented to mum, “Why are you still alive? Coeliacs of your age are dead, as they died at a young age. You are the oldest surviving Coeliac.”

Consequently, many of us are alive here today.

This loving act of cooking breakfast stayed with her, as when we moved to Roseville mum gave us a cooked breakfast every morning sometimes. If she went to morning mass and I slept in, she would lay out the frypan and other necessary utensils, and an egg and other foods, next to the stove. This I saw as love in action.

Her mother also taught her the skill of having collections. Flowers to press, stamps for the missions, and match boxes were collected to build with. This habit of collecting various items never left her. She had a taste for many collections: newspapers, magazines, books, and other items. One could say this was the catalyst to her amassing belongings. Or it might have been the many years of moving home every 18 months or so—16 moves in 17 years. She was staying put at Roseville and didn’t want to declutter.

Her parents’ decision to home school her until Year 5 had quite an impact on her. Her mother, Beryl McGrath, taught her the three R’s rigorously, plus sewing, embroidery, and knitting. She won competitions for her skills in embroidery. Years later, as mum was making or mending our clothes, she would always save even the shortest thread. This was an effect of her growing up in the Great Depression.

Her mother took her to and from Bexley to Santa Sabina at Strathfield by public transport daily, from Grade 3, until at 13 attending boarding school at Loreto Normanhurst, which was then considered “in the country” in 1940. It was such a freedom for our mother.

The nun Mother Judith convinced her mother to allow mum to stay up past 6:30 pm, which had been her bedtime for years.

I quote:

“I loved Loreto Convent from the day I walked inside the door, and they were a wonderful four years. My love affair with Loreto has continued to this day.”

Monica lived and breathed all things Loreto Normanhurst. She was one of a kind!

She attended Normanhurst from 1940 to 1943 as a boarder and continued a strong connection with the school for many years, especially through the Ex-Students' Association, where she was Secretary for seven years from 1947 to 1953 and President for two terms in the 1960s and 1970s. Monica was an integral part of Loreto Federation from its inception in 1955, representing Normanhurst at the biannual event through to the 1970s, when she was Treasurer.

Monica had six children, including four daughters who attended Normanhurst from the 1960s to 1980s:

Monica (68), Virginia (72) deceased, Gabrielle (73), and Elizabeth (83) deceased, and her granddaughter Samara Simmons (99).

Monica was our eldest ex-student, and her legacy lives on through our ex-student community.

Monica needed reading glasses in her primary years of school and was not allowed to read by electric light. She was, however, allowed to listen to the radio. The enjoyment of the radio also continued throughout her life. Often mum would shut herself in the kitchen at Roseville and turn on operettic music quite loudly.

Music was a big part of her life always. Monica learnt to play the piano from her maternal aunt, Aunty May.

Going through all the necessary grades in pianoforte to achieve her AMusA, which stands for the Associate of Music, Australia (AMusA Diploma), generally considered equivalent to an undergraduate music degree.

Monica also went to the Conservatorium to study music. Her father told her there were fewer harpists than pianists, so she would “lug the harp around on public transport” for a year, and Arts at Sydney Uni. After a year of doing this and being on six social committees, the study went out the window. She was a very social woman.

We had a piano in the house at Roseville, but I never actually heard mum play. Once she met dad and worked alongside him, of which she was not paid mostly, and had six children, her enjoyment came from listening to music. From the age of 22, Monica attended the inauguration of ABC concerts at the Town Hall, then continued when these concerts were moved to the Opera House. She and her friend Nigari Hollingdale frequented opera and symphony concerts for many decades at the Opera House. Mum was also very generous in sharing her tickets if she was unable to attend.

Her mathematical skills amazed me. She could add up a very long column of figures in seconds, accurately.

When Monica lived in Bexley, her father was a Member of Parliament. He was the Minister of Housing and asked mum to reply to letters he had received about people’s housing predicaments. This translated into her care for helping her children, if or when necessary, with housing. It is part of her legacy that has continued.

Mum was extremely involved in this parish. She was involved in the Liturgy Committee, then the parish book library, a lending resource for the parishioners so people could delve deeper into their faith in God.

To have readings about women was a request of mum’s for her own funeral.

“The Lord gives the word; the women who announce the news are a great host.” Monica may have read this verse and taken it to heart. She oversaw the Readers roster here at Chatswood for decades. She would train others in this very important task, correcting where she thought necessary, without hesitation. She used to tell us it was our dad who taught her to be tactful.

In John 14:2, Jesus says, “In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?” Home was so important to mum, and she has changed address. I’m looking forward to a good hug with her one day.

Words: Gabrielle O'Brien (née Cotter ‘73)