Yesterday I joined a small but passionate crowd to honour and celebrate the long and productive life of a truly impressive woman, Kinnear (Kay) Grose, née MacDonald. She left this life at the age of 95 years, and to be at her memorial and hear her history was awe-inspiring.

My brother and I knew her as an educator, a teacher of English and History when we were both at secondary school, but she was so much more than that!

She was passionate and dedicated about everything she took on.  She achieved way above expectations through her intellect and dedication to her own education, and dedicated her learning to those whom she went on later to teach.
She had the ability to see potential in others, and to encourage and mentor them to foster that potential through education and the realising of their own innate skills.

She was one of the stoic pioneers of our parents’ generation, the “unlucky generation”, who quietly and doggedly went about building a community and services to grow a small town in a dusty, harsh, and unwelcoming part of North Western Victoria.  She modestly invested her own hard won education at elite institutions such as MacRobertson Girls’ High, and The University of Melbourne; in the teaching of children of soldier settlers, post WW2 immigrants, and the local Aboriginal kids, without discrimination.   In many cases, she was the champion for those from any background who were for some reason not able to avail themselves of educational possibilities.

In amongst all of these endeavours she was a lifelong dedicated and active member of the church in Robinvale, an instigator of the Guiding movement in our town, a passionate naturalist and conservationist; and last but not least, and not having children of her own, a deeply dedicated and loving aunt to generations of nieces, nephews and their subsequent children – many of whom were there to honour and say a proud farewell to her. I say proud, because she truly was a woman who inspires admiration.

I have the feeling however, that this last sentence would not sit comfortably with her…like others of her generation, she saw something that needed to be done and just got on with it; more likely to avoid, rather than seek accolades; and as a committed Christian, to remain humble.

At the graveside we had our opportunity, after she was lowered in to lie beside her beloved Bill, to offer our personal thanks to her along with a fragrant fresh orchid or daisy to accompany a magnificent coffin adornment of native flowers.

My brother’s thanks were along the lines of gratitude for his ability to spell just about any word he was challenged with, and for recognising and encouraging his own personal academic potential.  She never taught me, though she was a teacher when I was a student, and I shudder to think what she would make of the punctuation I have used in this piece!

Lastly, as we prepared to leave the Robinvale cemetery after visiting a couple of family graves there, we were met by the most extraordinary sight.

Emerging from behind a large and robust oleander bush, dapperly dressed with spade in hand, was another of our amazing pioneer women, octogenarian and living treasure, Mary Merlin!

I do not need explain to Robinvale people who Mary is.  She had been to the funeral of course, but now, as one of the custodians of ‘this joint’ (the cemetery), she was getting ready to harvest self-generated oleanders to form part of a windbreak for a newly opened part of the Cemetery, having told the board that instead of three rows of trees (probably comparatively expensive), they needed only 2 rows, one high, and one low (oleander bushes).  And, once again, typical of the generation, she was getting ready to make the most of what was already available!

As we left, we begged her to ‘take it easy’, but we may as well have saved our breath, soft 60 year olds that we are!

It seemed a fitting end to the day!