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Category: Patty Beecham Productions
Audio, Digital, Print
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I am thrilled to be offering you 3 formats for my early memoir – with Christmas holidays, travel, and old eyes (mine!) this is an easy way for your to enjoy the story of my Rockhampton childhood. This is my book launch schedule for Rockhampton so far: Tuesday Morning 1/11/22…
On royal Births, and death bombing.
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With the world waiting for the birth of William and Kate’s baby, I wonder if the young prince will stay overnight in the maternity hospital with their new baby, once born. It reminds me of my own birth experience at Boothville Mother’s Hospital, Windsor. Since closed, it was run by…
Flood of Emotion
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IT’S been two years since I stood in disbelief on her cream carpet, watching the muddy Brisbane River swirl around my bare feet. This is really going to happen! My elderly mother-in-law’s home in Indooroopilly will go under in the flood. We nearly cry, but don’t; it’s pointless. You can’t…
Nursing her elderly mother after a fall, Patty Beecham reflects on the reversal of roles as she becomes carer
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This article was published in the Courier Mail, Brisbane, Queensland. http://www.couriermail.com.au/news/opinion/nursing-her-elderly-mother-after-a-fall-patty-beecham-reflects-on-the-reversal-of-roles-as-she-becomes-carer/story-e6frerc6-1226572035991 My elderly mother stands over my bed and whispers in my ear. “Are you awake?” “Not really”, I mumble. I can see she is smiling at me, even though I am asleep. It’s 5.20am and I remember that my…
My mother, my living doll.
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My elderly mother stands over my bed and whispers in my ear. ‘Are you awake?’ ‘Not really’, I mumble. I can see she is smiling at me, even though I am asleep. It’s 5.20am, and I remember that my mother is actually critically ill in Rockhampton, 700kms north of my…
My Margarita Mother-in-law
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It’s been two years since I stood in disbelief on her cream carpet, watching the muddy Brisbane River swirl around my bare feet. This is really going to happen! My elderly mother-in-law’s home in Indooroopilly will go under in the flood. We nearly cry, but don’t; it’s pointless. I stare…
Top of the tide
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Along the shore, footstep by footstep, the thin, crisp line wanders. Meandering along the top of the tide, it states: I was here, once. It binds throughout each coastal bay, every beach and cove, weaving Australia with a tidal thread of today. Tomorrow, the moon beckons a different…