In the Company of Women

Outgoing president Elitje Brill-Meuer of the Netherlands and president elect Ingrid von Rosen from Stockholm.

It was a lightening decision to travel to Perth in May for the Biennial International Congress of Lyceum Clubs as a means of coping with the first anniversary of the death of my husband, Olivier.. Yet for me, as the congress unfolded in the luxurious Duxton Hotel in the company of dynamic women from around the globe, it was absolutely the right move to refocus on a new independent life as a widow. When Olivier was in his dying days, I told him that “In future I will return to my girlfriend life and my writing’’. Being in the company of women of an amazing level of intellectual grasp, of all ages, from many countries was a life-changing experience. It catapaulted me out of my introverted sense of loss into an enlightening view of a big wide world of new experiences.

I discovered two important aspects of recovery. The journey built on an emerging awareness of freedom and that my future will be created by my own decision-making; that it can be filled with chances which I could “catch on the wind’’. Life could still be an exhilarating adventure, even though it would be absolutely different from my fulfilling marriage to Olivier.

After three days of exhilarating keynote speakers, superb food, social programs and meeting a host of new people, I took a four-day post-congress bus tour to the South-West of Australia to Margaret River and Albany. There were 29 of us and some were married couples, others had been career women who never married, and still others, like me, were widows. We were an eclectic bunch who blended beautifully. About half our number came from overseas – from Finland, Germany, Switzerland, the Netherlands and the United States bringing a wonderful richness of exchange as fellow tourists. The trip through vineyards, along rugged coastlines and spectacular landscapes blew away the cobwebs of grief and I really enjoyed myself – alone, yes, but in the company of women. May 11 fell on the Saturday, the day where we had morning tea at Busselton and lunch at the idyllic Thompson’s Winery at Margaret River. It was ironic that I couldn’t escape the memory of Margaret River with Olivier, when we holidayed together at the Eagle Vale winery, just down the road, which was operated by one of Olivier’s French friends. And it surprised me that, instead of free-flowing tears, I felt fond memory.

I returned home after 10 days with a notebook filled with new friends and overseas contacts. Along with my suitcase and photographs, I brought a fresh new perspective on my life henceforth.

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