A Mother’s Day Roadtrip

My Dearest Lovelies,

When I think of my Mother, I also think of my Father.

Mum and Dad were a formidable team and they did everything together. So this Mother’s Day will seem a little odd for my beautiful Mum as she bravely navigates life on her own since Dad’s death. Armed with her enormous capacity for love, change, spontaneity, and belief in the hereafter, I know she will make it a beautiful next chapter.

This summer, Mum, my niece Eliza, and I did what any gals would do when they needed a little respite from heartbreak — we packed the car like my parents have done throughout their lives and headed out West.

We just wanted to drive, to feel the road pass underneath the wheels, see the landscape change and soothe us, and go to all the towns and places that we visited when we were  young and carefree. We wanted to feel the wind and the heat of driving in the middle of an Australian summer.

We needed an adventure of the heart.

The roads and towns of western New South Wales are imprinted in our collective DNA, passed down from my parents and grandparents and the enormous laundry list of towns they have called home for a short while.

Over the Blue Mountains, the Coulson’s feel like they are going home.

Our adventure included no bookings or plans, and we would just pick somewhere on the map (Mum’s suggestion) and head there.

The rolling hills and valleys of Oberon passed as we headed for Mayfield gardens, one of Mum’s recent dreams. We went to Boorowa, Cowra, Canowindra, dropped in to see friends out of Orange and Blayney and jumped back in the car to drive some more.

We laughed, we cried, we remembered, we argued about whether we had taken the wrong road or not and Mum told us our stories, the ones of her childhood, her family, of Dad and Mum when they were young and she passed onto the next generation the curiosity of places unknown.