Since moving to Victoria, only five years ago, grief has been a constant companion in my life. Five cherished friends from Tasmania are now gone, leaving me with only beautiful memories and an ache in my heart that won’t go away. Cancer claimed three, Type 1 diabetes another, and COVID-19, stole yet another. Each loss cut deep, a poignant reminder of life’s fragility. Their memories will remain treasures. This is a tribute to Bev, one of those irreplaceable friends, whose love and laughter will stay with me forever.
Meeting Bev for the first time
I first met Bev in 1973 when we attended Elizabeth Matriculation College in Hobart together. We soon struck up a friendship and often walked home together. At that time, Bev lived in North Hobart, not far from school, and I lived in Newtown, about ten minutes further on from Bev’s place. Bev had beautiful shoulder-length dark hair and always had a smile on her face.
After we finished school, we ended up working together at the Department of Agriculture in Hobart. We worked in the records department with a bunch of other girls—about ten of us in all. Our boss was very strict. In fact, it was like being back in school in many ways. We weren’t allowed to talk unless it was work-related. Bev’s desk was behind mine. Every so often, a screwed-up paper ball would land on my head or desk. I’d turn around and look at Bev, and she’d give me a shrug and a smirk as if to say, “It wasn’t me.”
1973 – the legal drinking age in Tasmania was lowered – Woohoo!
1973 was not just the year I met Bev—it was also the year the legal drinking age in Tasmania was lowered from 21 to 18. We didn’t let this law go to waste. On Wednesday nights, Bev and I, along with a couple of other girls from work, had big nights out at The Red Lion in Hobart. The Red Lion was located where the Wool Store stands today. I’d meet Bev at her place at 10 pm., and we’d head down to The Red Lion together. It was always packed with young people, and there was a band playing. We’d spend the night on the dance floor, enjoy a couple of blackberry nips, and leave at closing time—2 or 3 a.m.—and then somehow manage to be at work a few hours later for the 9 am start. Not my idea of a good night out now, but we were only 18, and life was fun.
Up there Cazaly for a sauna and Turkish bath
Bev loved her weekly sauna and Turkish bath and introduced me to them. Every Thursday after work, we went straight to Cazaly’s Fitness Centre for a sauna and Turkish bath. After Cazaly’s closed down, we went to a similar place in Collins Street, about a five-minute walk from where we worked in the Marine Board Building, Hobart. From memory, this place was girls-only on Thursday nights. As well as the baths, there was an ‘old lady’ doing massages, so naturally, we had to have a weekly massage too.
Moving to Wynyard
For many years, I didn’t see Bev because she moved to Wynyard on the northwest coast of Tasmania. One day, I saw her walking past my grandmother’s place in Howrah, a suburb of Hobart, with two little kids in tow. It turned out she had moved into the next street from my grandmother. We got talking and catching up on the past, and quickly discovered our friendship was as strong as ever.
We did so much together
After our kids got older, we started socialising again. We shared a love of books and joined the Fullers Book Club, where we talked books and drank red wine at our monthly meetings. We went to live shows and movies regularly. When the Museum of Old and New Art (MONA) opened, we often went there to check out the latest exhibitions and attend events on the lawn.
Sharing the cooking on Saturday nights
Bev eventually moved to Montagu Street, Newtown, about five minutes down the road from where I lived. Just another coincidence and there were many! We were both single again. Bev, being the wonderful, kind person she was, suggested we have dinner together on Saturday nights. She created the most amazing meals, always with dessert to follow. When it was my turn on alternate Saturday nights, the meal was usually a flop. Bev always said I was trying too hard and helped me turn something ordinary into something worth eating. Bev always encouraged me, saying, “If you can read, you can cook.” I’m not so sure about that in my case.
Our New Year’s Day tradition
On New Year’s Day, Bev and I had a tradition of meeting on the corner of our street and walking down to Salamanca Place for the Taste of Tasmania. We spent the day eating and relaxing, checking out the yachts that had sailed into the harbour from Sydney for the annual Sydney to Hobart yacht race, watching buskers, wandering around the galleries, and having a great old time. Bev always seemed so happy and content with her life.
In fact, I didn’t know anyone who seemed happier with their lot. But then she met Bruce. Her happiness and enjoyment of life moved up a few more notches. They were wonderful together – Bruce’s kindness, humour, and unwavering love were the perfect match for Bev’s warmth and generosity. Bev still made time to include me in her life, and often the three of us would meet in North Hobart for a drink and a chat. They’d often invite me for dinner which was always like a special occasion for me because I enjoyed their company so much.
During Bev’s long illness, I never heard her complain once. Instead, she got on with life and started taking up new interests such as learning the piano, sewing, and probably a host of other things I didn’t even know about. She even made some beautiful outfits to wear to her son’s wedding. When I asked Bev where the wedding was going to take place, she said Koh Samui. I couldn’t believe it – my daughter had planned her wedding there at exactly the same time. It was just one of the many uncanny coincidences in our lives. Naturally, the three of us, Bev, Bruce and I, had lunch together in beautiful Koh Samui a couple of times.
Over the last few months of Bev’s life, she still seemed happy and kept busy doing things that an average person would find difficult. On one of my last visits, I arrived to find Bev reading Oppenheimer. I’m not sure if she managed to plough through all 721 pages, but she would’ve given it a bloody good go.
Bev and I shared so many special moments, memories, and coincidences over the years, and I will treasure them all. She was a remarkable friend—kind, strong, and full of life, even in the most difficult of times. Bev taught me so much about having courage and living with grace. There’s so much more I could say, but I can’t finish without acknowledging Bruce. I witnessed firsthand, during my visits, the love and care he gave to Bev—it was second to none, even though his heart must have been breaking.
I will miss her dearly, but I will always smile when I think of her. Goodbye, my beautiful friend.
The featured image from the Lonely Planet guide is of Salamanca Place in Hobart, one of Bev’s and my favourite places.
