In Loving Memory

28th December 1926 ~ 4th January 2011

The funeral for our Mother was held on 11th January 2011

We speak your name with love and pride.
We smile through tears we try to hide.

Thank you Mum for the time we shared.
The love you gave and the way you cared.

You left a place no one can fill.
We miss you Mum and always will.

♥♥♥♥♥†♥♥♥♥♥

Eulogy
Read by Tanya Kleefsman - 1st Daughter

There was once a young girl full of life called Julijana Lenc who was born on the 28th December 1926 in Belgrade, Yugoslavia. She lived with her two brothers Zdenko and Ivica, and her parents Irma and Peter.

As a young woman she worked in an office as a pay clerk where she met a young man called Joseph Aksionov who also worked there. He fell in love with her dark eyes, shiny black hair and cheeky sense of humour. After chasing her for awhile he finally won her heart and the approval of her Dad.

When they decided to marry, times were hard as it was not long after the war had ended, so on the 31st March, 1947 they got a permit to marry. They had one hour off work and with their manager as best man, the ceremony took place. After that, they had lunch with the manager and his wife then went back to work. After work some work mates who had since found out that they had married, came down to Dad’s room in the basement where Mum and Dad would be living and had a few drinks and some cake to celebrate. No fancy wedding dress for Mum. Even an official wedding photo delayed to a fair bit later when they could afford it.

In 1952 with two small girls, Tanya and Olga, plus all their belongings in two suitcases and a backpack, they left camp in Trieste, Italy and boarded the ship for Australia to build a better life for their family.

The first place to stay after landing in Australia was a camp at Bonegilla. Then they moved to Geelong where there were a lot of other migrants. Houses were really hard to rent so Dad was offered an old chook shed which he converted into living space. With only a few words of English, Mum got a job at the Ford factory in Geelong while Dad went to Melbourne where he finally found work with a construction company.

The next move was to Albert Park for several years where a third daughter Brenda was born. About 9 months later because the house was too small, Dad and his younger brother Vlado who had since come to Australia and was living with them, bought a block of land in Warrandyte. Years of building followed then another daughter Rhonda was born. A bushfire and evacuation in the early 60’s, they were lucky to keep their home, unfinished as it was.

Mum loved Dad, her garden, dancing, singing, children and grandchildren. She also worried a lot and always wanted the best for her family as did Dad.

We had weddings, parties, engagements, camping trips, get togethers on Sundays for lunches. Mum was always cooking - we don’t know how she stretched the budget. We had laughter and tears, sad times, happy times and always love.

All grandchildren loved coming to Baka’s because she made them laugh, hugged them, cooked for them, chased them, and this was all before her arthritis slowed her right down but not her spirit.

Mum, if we had the power, we’d have wished you some pain free time again to spend in your home and garden of which you were so proud.

You always wanted to reach your 84th birthday and you certainly did that in hospital but I am sure that was not the way you would have imagined it.

Mum, you passed away peacefully on the 4th of January with most of the family there throughout the day to be with you. You will be in our hearts forever.

♥♥♥♥♥†♥♥♥♥♥

The Many Roles of Our Mother
Read by Brenda Webley - 3rd Daughter

Our mother's forte was her home and her children and she thrived in her domain. My mother could do all the things women of her generation were expected to know such as: cooking, sewing, needlework, darning socks, knitting and crochet. She loved dancing and singing and her joyful presence made her the life of every party.

Mum also had a more serious side and we were taught to be frugal and not wasteful and to appreciate everything we had. And she inspired us to be the best we could be in all our endeavours.

Our mother had many different roles and here are some little stories I wish to share with you.

Our Mum The Psychologist

I was about eight years old and extremely unhappy about something so I threatened to run away. "Go ahead" my mother calmly stated not pandering to my threat. I was so incensed I went to my room, grabbed a little suitcase, packed some of my most precious things and some clothes and walked back through the kitchen where my mother was. Before I reached the door my mother said: "Don't think I am going to let you go out like that! If someone else is going to start looking after you, then they will get you in the same way you came to me and start from scratch. Take everything off!"

Not ready to admit defeat, I stubbornly took off my dress and stood there in my singlet, panties, shoes and socks. Thinking that was enough, I picked up my suitcase and headed for the door again.

"Oh no you don't" my mother retorted. "When you came into the world you were not fully clothed for me, and if you want to run away, then whoever decides to look after you can also have you the same way I got you, which was naked!"

Stubbornly I removed my shoes, socks and singlet but when it came down to removing my panties, the realisation that I would wandering the streets completely naked hit me. I finally broke down in tears and had to admit defeat.

My mother had effectively killed the running away idea on the spot, not just on that occasion but permanently. The thought never crossed my mind again and I wonder why.

Our Mum The Educator

I did not go to Kindergarten the year before starting Prep so at the age of five, my mother introduced school time roleplay at home by packing a small lunchbox for me with a piece of fruit, a couple of biscuits and a sandwich and I also had a book to look at. My “classroom” was under a tall pine tree on the other side of our block, not too close to the house but within clear viewing range of my mother. I even had my small chair to make it feel more like I was sitting in a classroom (albeit an outside one!). She then explained how I would be in class for a little while before a bell rang which meant I could go outside for “morning play” and eat some fruit or my biscuits. When my mother rang her bell a second time (by banging a saucepan with a metal spoon), I would go back into my “classroom” and listen to my teacher until a third bell rang for lunchtime. Then I could go out again, eat my lunch and play some more.

And so the roleplay continued in a condensed space of time as young children have very short attention spans, and this was not religiously acted out on a daily basis. Besides, my mother did not want to put me OFF school! The roleplay was meant to be fun (which it was) and only acted out to give me a better idea of what I could expect on my first day at school. My mother’s intention was for me not to fret and start my first day in tears.

The summer holidays came to an end and with everything ready for school, I was really looking forward to starting Prep. My mother went with me and I remember there were lots of kids with our mums milling around the outside of the classroom at the end of the corridor of this long building. A bell rang and it was time for us to go into class. I was very excited and my Mum gave me a quick hug and kissed me goodbye with a slight concerned look about leaving me. Unperturbed, I rushed into class, sat down as instructed and waited patiently... and continued waiting... and waiting... and waiting. So many children were crying and clinging to their mothers and I couldn’t understand why. A red headed girl was sitting on the other side of the room and like me, she looked just as bemused by the performance of the other children as I was.

I remember our teacher was desperately trying to usher the parents out and encouraging them to leave quickly and not worry as their children would settle down once their parents were out of sight. As the saying goes: “out of sight, out of mind.” During the settling in madness, the red headed girl and I moved closer to each other and we kept ourselves busy with chatter, completely oblivious to the chaos around us. From memory, we were the only two children in the entire class who did not cry or get upset when our mothers disappeared and as a consequence, were best friends for the greater part of our primary schooling from that day onwards.

Our Mum The Chef

Every meal was absolutely scrumptious - except for tripe Mum! We didn’t need to go out for a meal - we had our own resident chef right at home! It was a pleasure to bring friends home. My Mum had a special way in making people feel comfortable and of course they would never want for food!

Somehow our mother managed to create delicious meals from the most basic ingredients and there was always enough to stretch out to feed unexpected guests (which happened regularly).

Mum even taught our neighbours how to cook which wasn’t easy as she never cooked the same dish more than once in the same way.

Our Mum The Lie Detector

Our Mum had an ingenious imagination when it came to dealing with her daughters when we misbehaved or fought with one another.

My mother invented a unique way of working out if we were lying or not. If she strongly suspected one of us was lying about something but she wasn't 100% sure, she used a system where she touched our nose to tell. If our nose was soft, we were lying and if our nose was hard, we were telling the truth!

We had no idea that when our nose was "soft" her finger was actually pressing the soft tip of our nose and when our nose was "hard", she was pressing the bony part close to the end of our nose. It was simply a matter of moving her finger slightly up or down our nose accordingly. If she thought we were lying, she would press the soft part of our nose and we would immediately blush with embarrassment at having been caught out. The blushing was all the confirmation she needed.

Conclusion

I could spend many more hours describing our mother who was short in stature but huge in spirit.

She was an outstanding role model in our lives teaching us valuable lessons of honour, respect, trust, loyalty, humility, thoughtfulness, kindness, generosity, punctuality, reliability, gratitude and unselfishness. Gifts in life we will always deeply treasure and will remain truly thankful to our mother for leaving us with such a profound legacy of wise and loving guidance.

Mum, you are now free to run, dance and sing again in joyous abandon. Your unconditional love will live in our hearts forever. Light and blessings to our inspirational angel.

♥♥♥♥♥†♥♥♥♥♥

A Daughter and Her Mother
Read by Rhonda Aksionov - 4th Daughter

I am your baby Mum. I was born to you. You cherish my birth, I cherish your passing. Your whole life was family which over time had become divided. Some of my saddest moments were watching you crying at the loss of sisters being sisters, just family that should love, honour and protect each other.

So blessed am I my angel, to have been with you for your last breath as you were there for my first. I pray you are watching from up above, your four daughters embracing each other with love and sadness for the wonderful mother that gave us life, along with time lost as a united family.

You were always so proud of me Mum, working and raising five sons, all beautiful young men who have wonderful memories of their Baka. So many times you would cry, worried that I worked too hard as only a mother could. Your strong work ethic passed onto me and now to my children.

Someone very close to my heart told me that the surest thing in life is that nothing ever stays the same – such a profound statement.

I wish for all of us here today to be happy in life, embrace each other, love and protect each other. Try not to judge, after all we are family and friends, none of us are perfect. Mum you always said if you listen to gossip then you are as bad as the gossiper themselves, and to never judge somebody until you have lived a day in their shoes.

I love you for teaching me such wise words and try to practice what you have preached. I held your hand in your last hours. I thanked you for my life and all that you have taught me, thanked you for not being swayed by harsh words toward me, always recognising the truth above lies.

You love me Mum as a mother should and supported me through my darkest days as I sat with you Mum holding your hand, watching you struggle with each breath. There were so many things that I could have said. But thank you my angel, let go and have peace. Going to your parents, Ivica, Kata and little Robbie, felt right.

I feel your spirit. Once again you can dance, not just with your mind but your body too. I see you, I feel you, I smell you, I am part of you and will be with you always.

So nothing more can be said than I love you, and thank you Mum.

♥♥♥♥♥†♥♥♥♥♥

Last Letter to Baka
Read by Sharon De Visser - Granddaughter

This is my last letter to Baka.

My dearest, darling Baka,

I know how much you treasured all your letters and cards, reading them over and over again so I have written you one last letter.

Words cannot express how much I love you. Through the years you have been such a light in my life. You had so much love to give and such unending generosity for everyone around you.

I was always so proud to talk to anyone about how special my Baka is, though they would be so surprised that I still had my grandmother as so many of them had lost theirs so long ago. Yet here I was, married with four children and now they had the great privilege of growing up and feeling the love of my gorgeous grandmother, their great grandmother.

Baka, even though we should be grateful to have had you with us for so long, it is still not enough for me. Feeling your arms around me, your kisses, your warmth, softness and sweet smell, always made me feel like a little girl again.

You’re an angel Baka, I will miss that so much.

Thank you so much for so many beautiful memories Baka.

All our love forever,

Sharon, Steven, Michael, Cameron, Lachlan and Emily

♥♥♥♥♥†♥♥♥♥♥

Written tribute from Daniel
Grandson
Read by Paul Atherton

Firstly I would like to send my apologies that Dawn, Liam and I could not be with you all today, that our hearts and thoughts are with you all and especially with Deda at this very sad time.

Although this is indeed a sad occasion, it is important we reflect on the wonderful and fulfilled life that Baka has led us and all the wonderful and special memories she has given to all of us.

We each have our own personal memories of Baka that is special to us and I will forever cherish the ones that I have shared with her. She always made me feel like the special grandchild but I know she made each of us feel this way like we were the most important. We were a very lucky family to have been blessed with such a very special Baka.

Baka made Christmases and family get togethers extra special and I have many memories of sharing such occasions. The house where Baka was her happiest,in the kitchen cooking for her large family and always worrying that she had not cooked enough and anything else she could do wrong but she never did.

As we all know she was a wonderful cook, her Chicken Noodle soup has legend status and will never be surpassed although some will try. Sorry mum, yours is second best.

I also have wonderful childhood memories of our camping trips to Point Hicks and the Snowy River where she always tried to burn down the caravan by setting alight the curtains while making her famous Gluhwien.

Now that I am a Dad, it’s these memories and many others that I will share with my son on our camping trips. I am only sorry that she never got to meet her great grandson Liam but the stories and memories that I share with him about his great Baka will ensure that he knows what a wonderful and very special person she was.

I am indeed very lucky and I will miss you Baka.

Much love from your grandson Daniel.

♥♥♥♥♥†♥♥♥♥♥

A poem tribute by Dawn
Granddaughter-in-law
Read by Paul Atherton

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way which you always used.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
That  my name be ever the household word that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effort.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere very near.
Just around the corner.
All is well.

Thank you for making me feel part of your wonderful family and like one of your grandchildren, I am truly blessed to have known you.