Eulogy for Elsje
by Ross Whealing

I first met  Elsje when she was living with her sister Marianne, in a unit in Charles Street, Harbord sometime early  in 1971.  They both wanted to learn how to drive, and it so happened that one of my part time jobs, during my university days, was as a driving instructor.  So, I subsequently taught both of them to drive, Marianne got her licence, first time up – Elsje, about 7 years later, long after we were married!!

Occasionally, I would pick her up at Pope and Gabler, Estate agents in the Corso at Manly – a job where she worked, and which changed the direction, forever, of both our lives.  For on one occasion at the agency, I watched incredulously, as both the  agents counted out a wad of large denomination bank notes, on a fridge top in the agency’s  kitchen.  This was before mandatory trust accounts, of course, and immediately all thoughts of becoming a full time driving instructor, or worse, a suburban solicitor, left me.

Elsje and I, at this stage, were living together, happily, in a rented house at Belrose.  Soon after, on the 5th of January 1973, we married at the Wayside Chapel, Kings Cross, and where we would return, years later, to have our sons christened there, by the same celebrant, the Reverend Ted Noffs.  Ted was special: He insisted you made the rectory donation before he  carried out the relevant service.  A wonderful man, with a commercial prurience after my own heart.

So, eventually, after knocking on a lot of doors, I commenced work at Symonds and Green, estate agents in Mosman. The Licensee was the late Ken Scott, a name that would be known to many of you here  today, who not only inveigled  me into many years of running with the notorious Sydney Hash House Harriers, a group of hardened degenerates,  but a man who was to become a friend of Elsje and I, he would live with us from time to time, over the next 20 odd years. He was also god father to our twin sons, Pau land Luke.

As time passed, and Elsje’s cooking improved, we moved from Belrose to a raunchy one bedroom unit in Dee Why, in the days when purple shag pile carpet and Ben Ean moselle were still popular.  Then in 1978, to a 2 bedroom, world war one brick bungalow in Roseville, which we renovated together, often till late in the mornings, in the days when orange laminated bench tops  were the go and shiplap radiata pine boards were de riguer.  Will they ever return?... One can only live in hope.

Elsje had stopped working at this stage, had her driver's licence, but had the sense  to seek another instructor, in order to  to ensure her licence would be a certainty.  It was.  She did some part time work, for an architect, but once Mark arrived in March 1978 – she had essentially  finished her working life, jobwise, and by this stage had commenced her lifelong interest in nature, and all things native, and commenced breeding and selling Siamese cats, successfully.  An interest which is probably my fault, as one of my frequent overseas trips playing in rock show bands in the days prior to our marriage, I had bought her a cat, named  Harvey, to keep her company during my peripatetic absences.  Unfortunately, Harvey is  also no longer with us.

I had started my own agency business by  then, with Elsje’s 100% backing – in all the 30 plus years we operated various businesses,

I can not recall a strong argument between us about commercial decisions we had to make, from time to time.  I believed in her ability and she trusted my commercial judgement.

So, by the time the twins, Paul and Luke, arrived, in 1980, and  incidentally, Elsje had a marvellous sense of timing, Paul  and Luke had arrived on Marks Birthday . . .  all  our three boys were born on the same date, the 22nd of March. Well done Elsje, it  made birthdays so much easier as the boys were growing up.

Eventually we outgrew the two bedrooms in Roseville, and made the final move of our married life, to 5 Bedrooms, at St Ives, in June of 1984.

We were lucky, even fortuitous, the immediate St Ives neighbourhood we had become a part of turned out to be an eclectic collection of similar young couples, also burdened  with a plethora of young children.  Most, if not all, still lived there up to only a few years ago, some still do live there.  Many years of play group, constant school reports (could do better,  type of comments) soccer and cricket  games down below on the lawn surrounding the house; updating kitchens and bathrooms – orange benchtops by this stage, having given way to black marble, with the obligatory dishwasher, and with Elsje  playing Stephen Grapelli and Don Mclean records night and day, whilst I was playing my more muted collection of Marcel Marceau’s  tapes and records.

As the boys grew in a great, natural environment, which Elsje enjoyed, at St Ives, and my agency business expanded to a multi office operation, it started to become party time, and travel time, all emanating from St Ives.  And, as you do, in St Ives, we bought, renovated and sold properties as well as running an agency business, often with Elsje remarking, . . .  ‘Ross, do something, stop supervising and use the paint brush more’.  She could be authoritarian when she needed to be.

Social life was hectic – Both Elsje and I loved a  party, and we had them in spades at St Ives – Any excuse would do, we had parties for our dog's birthday, Mussolini’s Birthday, Dean Martin's Birthday, didn’t matter, if it was someone's birthday, we had a party.  Elsje didn’t even quibble about cleaning up all the mess the next day.  I remember her saying once, looking, the next morning, over a dishevelled house ,  “Well, I guess I could leave it all until the next party – Save doing it twice”!!!

Throughout the later years of our marriage; . . . we were partners for over 33 years, and remained friends for the following 7 years until her recent, untimely passing;  Elsje had developed into a  keen amateur artist, specialising in nature, landscapes and mixed media.  She exhibited and sold paintings, but  painted primarily for enjoyment, rather than remuneration.  She had a close group of like minded artists, who painted regularly together at our St Ives home. However, I could never persuade any of them, . . . not through lack of trying, to have a go, and repaint the house.

After we parted in late 2004, she eventually moved and bought the farm at Laguna with Geoff, (and I would also wish to thank Geoff, publicly, here today,  for the exemplary manner in which he looked after Elsje in the final days) where she renewed her interest in nature, flora and fauna, and travelled often, as was her want.

So Elsje Maria Whealing: - creative, kind to fault, loads of common sense, intuitive, a caring mother, except perhaps the one time, in a fit of pique, when she put a large  “we have moved” sign on the front and back door at St Ives, in time for the kids to read on their return from school . . .  A lover of the bush, animals, and all things native, a supportive wife, and a  friend to the end.  As she said many times ‘You cant be true or honest to someone else, unless you are true and honest to yourself".

The Boys – Mark, Paul and Luke were always uppermost in her mind, and in a very private conversation we had  in the last Sunday before she passed away, her sons were the predominant item of that conversation .

I miss her, I loved her, she was taken too early. However people pass, but the memories don’t . . . . Ohhh . . . and she had simply the best pair of legs!!

Rest in peace till we meet again Elsje.