Gwendoline Maureen Muriel Ingleton - 29th November 1918 to 15th July 2006

Gwendoline was born in Edinburgh - she always insisted she was born under the Firth of Fourth Bridge- on 29^th November 1918, at the end of the great war. Her father, Bickford Hattam, an Australian, had met and married her mother, Helene ‘Nellie’ (or Nana as we knew her) McGinty, a native of Donegal, Ireland but who grew up in Scotland. Bickford was studying medicine, they married and had five children; John, Hal, Eileen, Ormond and Gwen. She was the baby. After 15 years in Scotland Bickford set sail for Melbourne, and his family home in Preston. Gwen’s grandfather was Honest John Hattam head of the then empire of Hattam Stores. Gwen arrived in Australia at the age of 2. She grew up in Northcote and later went to school at PLC in East Melbourne, which she hated but when, later, the family moved to Redcourt Avenue, Armadale she attended St Catherine’s where she was in seventh heaven. Junior tennis champion, fastest runner in the school, the most popular girl in school. She was no scholar and she left school early. She worked at Henri’s Beauty Salon in Myers which is where she first met John.

At 20 there was the trip to Europe with her sister, Eileen and her mother. If not for Eileen’s insistence she would not have gone. For both girls that journey opened her eyes to the bright world outside Australia. It was 1938. They went to London, to Paris, to Berlin, they waved flags as Hitler paraded down the Unter de Linden, they sat in nightclubs with telephones on each table, they danced, they laughed, they were beautiful, they were the most popular girls in the room but war loomed over Europe and Nellie gathered her girls to her and raced them home to Australia. Perhaps, if they had stayed in London as they wished, their lives would have changed but it was a different era, they obeyed their parents. They sailed home via America. They landed in New York and caught the greyhound bus across the States. They sailed back to Melbourne, across the Pacific Ocean on the S.S. Monterey. The entertainer on that voyage was Count Basie.

The war years were hard, the Hattam brothers went to war, not Ormond, for he was not well and the girls stayed home with their Mother. And the friends, the boys they had grown up with, marched away and some never returned. It was a time of turmoil and indecision.

John Ingleton was smitten. He loved Gwen with all of his heart. For her, he was a constant presence, a good friend, a good man, and his offer of marriage was accepted. They were wed at Melbourne Grammar Chapel in November of 1941, as war raged in Europe. Yes, she married him, but she was one who had had dreams of a Prince on a white charger, of a passion that would burst open in her heart and rescue her completely from the memories of her childhood. John was a good man but he was not her prince.

Her heart was opened by her mothering.

She had four children; Anthony and Suzanne then a big gap of 8 years and two more children, Michael and Sally. Almost like starting a new family. John worked harder and harder, there’s no denying he loved to work and he always seemed to find it easier to relate to animals, horses and dogs than to children.

Gwen and John lived in many places, Tamarama, near Bondi in Sydney. How Gwen loved Sydney! It was always her hearts desire to live there. ‘I could never be bored there‘, she would always say. After the war they moved back to Melbourne and lived in Booran, Road Caulfield, probably the smell of the horses planted in Dad his great love of those beautiful animals. There was the stint down at Cowes, Phillip Island where Dad had bought the Bayview Guest House. Tony and I were about 3 and 5 then. After the disaster of the fire which raised it to the ground we all came back to Melbourne, to live in Huntingtower Road, Malvern. Huntingtower Rd. was a rich time for Tony and I. Then we moved to Glen Iris into Allenby Avenue, their first home, and it was there that Michael and Sally were born.

After the divorce, which was a shattering and painful time for her, she moved to Frankston, to Gweno Ave. with Michael and Sally and a whole new life. Tony was married and I had left home. Michael happily went to Peninsular Boys and Sally to Toorak College, and as Chubby fell into a kind of isolation from her Melbourne life she found herself more and more devoted to the children. Her constant visitor and her loyal friend George Grigg regularly made the journey down to see her. He loved her dearly, but for her he was just a good friend.

When Mike and Sally’s schooldays were over she moved back to Melbourne to eventually live in Rae Street, Nth Fitzroy and to build her wonderful little home at Flinders. Flinders was the paradise she shared with Michael and Sally and the dog, Mino, they had precious times there.

When eventually it became too hard for her to make the trip on her own, she sold it. Ah, the regret of that. Eventually after many moves she ended up back in Glen Iris in her beautiful unit that Sally found for her.

Chubby loved Norman Banks, Neil Mitchell and the Footy. Our whole family barracks for Carlton, for over 50 years we have been loyal. She saw the endless stream of greats in a personal way. Her boys in Blue. She sang the club song and went every Saturday, often on her own, to the Carlton ground, with her thermos, sandwich and trannie. She lost her voice many times!

She loved the radio. She listened to the radio her whole life. She loved Claudia, she loved it that Claudia actually spoke out about orgasms, a thing that remained such a mystery for so many women. Martha Gardner’s every word of advice was scribbled down on bits of paper, little notepads, 2 tablespoons of vinegar- chewing gum on carpet, etc. She was always writing recipes she heard on the radio, on pieces of paper, backs of envelopes, any surface she could find. Her handwriting never changed- it was lovely and loopy. She wrote down millions of recipes but never seemed to make any of them. Reading them, writing them down was as good as the making.

She did cook of course, she created lemon delicious pudding, roast lambs, steam golden puddings, and simple vegies most often a little bit soggy. She loved it when frozen peas were invented, sliced bread, instant coffee.

She was always fastidiously clean, she hated mice and blowflies and all their ghastly signs of visitation, she dressed well and her children always looked immaculate. She bought us clothes at Myers, very little for herself, the children always came first.. She wore aprons.

She drove for many, many years. Her first car was her little green Austin A40, it must’ve brought her the first feeling of freedom she had ever really had. Then there was a string of station wagons (which 16 YR old Tony loved to drive) and in all those years she only had a couple of bingles.

She was devastated to lose her licence when she was 85. Her independence disappeared before her eyes. In those later years she loved to just drive to Malvern Central, do her shopping, meet with Eileen for coffee and then come home.

Gwen’s whole life was her children.

She drove us, she picked us up, she came to every event known on the school calendar, she watched us practice sport, play music, perform, paint whatever!

Sure she smothered us a lot, what mother doesn’t, but she never ever stood in the way of our own decisions nor did she ever turn us away.

We have lost count of the many times she stood at airport gates or ship’s docks waving us goodbye, her heart breaking, her face smiling bravely... Eventually we all returned but Michael left for many years to live in Paris, and she missed him so terribly.

In these last three years of her life his return, to be with her, was her greatest reward. He has been a prince for her, his unconditional love for her and his caring, generous heart made it possible for us to keep her at home when she became unable to be alone.

We were so lucky to have Rick Delbridge and his co-workers, Roxanne and Pilli who gave Gwen compassionate and realistic caring, normalising her life for us all but also allowing us space to care for her too.

We have all done our best, each in our own way to look after our beloved mother.

Tony gave her the world and countless yum-chas. She was a real traveller, our Chub. She was amazingly fearless when it came to leaving home. Tony will tell you of her many trips to Disneyland with him. Her home is filled with countless postcards from Sally, our intrepid explorer and documentary film-maker. Michael’s drawings and paintings surrounded her.

And photos, so many photos of us all.

Chubby never threw out a Mother’s Day card or a birthday card, from us, or from her grandchildren whom she adored or from her friends. They are all there, stashed somewhere.

She loved music, fine music, opera, Puccini, La Boheme, Madam Butterfly, she loved the Beatles, The Seekers, she loved the music her children played. She sang along with us to Daddy Cool, she drove us to airports to scream at rock stars, she went to rock concerts with us.

She sang her own songs to us, songs of Maurice Chevalier and Bing Crosby. She knew all the words. Even in these last years when she couldn’t remember the name of the person she had just met (who can?) she could always burst into song at the drop of a hat, word perfect, and her range? From the early thirties right up to Phantom of the Opera.

(Written and Read by Gwen's daughter -my mother- Suzanne Ingleton)

My darling chubby.

Thank you.

Always so young at heart, it was only last year I can remember staying at mums and the three of us giggling together like schoolgirls about one thing or another.

I have a childhood full of warm memories at Rae St. Thank you for your child-like spirit that brought me such unique treasures as Mr. Pixie, and endless bedtime stories about anything I could possibly request.

Thank you for tram-rides, and playing on swings, and trips to the zoo, and Heidy the elephant.

Thank you for all your love and cuddles.

Thank you for my mum.

I will always remember your giggles and your smile and your sparkling eyes.

(Written by me, read by my sister -Maudie -thanks Maud)