MND sufferer Angie Cunningham, the bravest mum I know: Hamish McLachlan

We exchanged emails for five months and the most treasured conversation I have ever had, featured in this newspaper in April.

Sadly, Ange passed away at home on Tuesday night. The final words she heard were those of her eldest daughter, Maggie, who was reading to her. Maggie was reading a book that Ange had written for her, and her sister, Sophie, titled Life, Lessons and Love.

In a break from my normal Q & A, this week I wanted to write a few things to Mags and Soph about the bravest woman I have ever met, just in case they ever need a reminder of just how special their mother was.

AMAZING INTERVIEW: Hamish’s 12-words-a-minute chat with Angie Cunningham

DEAR Mags and Soph,

I met your mother when I was working in London in late 2006. Your dad introduced us. I remember walking through the door and seeing your mum in the kitchen. Tall, fit and elegant. Ange was cooking dinner, and the house smelt delicious.

Your mum had a big smile, and when she smiled, her eyes smiled too. Ange had a way of making people feel at ease. She made everyone feel very welcome, very quickly. When I met your mum, she didn’t shake hands — she kissed me and said “welcome to our home”, and I felt welcome. She made me feel instantly comfortable, like it was my home. Ange had made up a room in the attic for me, and I stayed up there for a few months. It was a great time of my life.

Maggie, when I met your mum, you were just a few months old. You were rolling around on the living room floor. You were a chubby little baby — very chubby. Ange had done a very good job of feeding you up! Ange looked after you and protected you and cared for you. You were the most precious thing in the world to her. I can’t imagine any baby has ever had more love given to them. And then, three years later, Soph, you arrived. And although I am not sure how, your mum managed to find more love inside her, and loved and cared for you both equally.

A few things you need to know about your mum, Ange:

She was a phenomenal tennis player. You know she won Junior Wimbledon Doubles. You also need to know she used to take a can of whoop-arse out on your father when they played against each other. He only ever beat her once, and that was when she was about eight months’ pregnant with you, Mags. Your mum worked with the best tennis players in the world when she retired from the circuit — in player relations for the WTA — and they all respected her so much because she was so good at her job. She worked very hard, was very clever, and the players all loved her. Serena Williams even mentioned your mum in her Australian Open winner’s speech. Now that is something!

One night in London, your dad and I went out too late. We tried to sneak into the house, but we didn’t do a very good job. We made a bit of noise, and I think your dad might have knocked over a pot plant. It woke up your mum, who was exhausted from having two young kids to look after and a busy job. Instead of getting angry, all she said was: “Have a good night did we, boys?” She never got too flustered about anything. Ever. That was one of her charms.

When you look at some photos of your mum from when she was a teenager, you will see some where her hairdo looks like she was a member of a 1980s rock band. Please understand that it wasn’t entirely your mother’s fault, and a lot of the blame should rest with your grandmother Susie, and an apprentice hairdresser back at home in Launceston. She reflected on those hairstyles earlier this year with your dad and I, and she agreed that they were appalling and probably should have been outlawed in all Australian states and territories.

Your mum gave my wife, Soph, and I some rhubarb cuttings from your vegetable garden in Melbourne.

Soph and my two daughters, Milla and Indi, planted them with you both at the farm. Your mum’s rhubarb is now the healthiest and toughest of all the vegetables we have planted, and it is flourishing — symbolically, I think. I smile every time I walk past it. Milla always says: “That’s Ange’s rhubarb, Dad”. Every time I water the vegetable garden, I think of your mum.

Earlier this year, a good mate of ours ran into some trouble. Your mum was the first one to send them
a message to tell them what they should do. As soon as she emailed them, they knew that everything was going to be all right. Your mum was a very wise old soul. She was always calm in every situation. She never overreacted, never got dragged in to the populist or hysterical view. She was always her own woman, with her own thoughts.

Your mum was very lucky to have fabulous parents. Your grandparents Bill and Susie are the most kind and loving people you will ever meet.

Make sure you call them often. Write them letters. Send them photos. Bill loves hugs. So does Susie. They are partial to kisses, too. Don’t be afraid to smother them with your love. Make sure you call your Uncle Sam and Aunt Amanda. They will be hurting too.

YOUR mum lived her life superbly. No day was ever dull. Nothing was ever taken for granted. Ange never wanted for more. What she had, she loved, and what she didn’t, she didn’t yearn for.

Her greatest happiness came from being with you two girls and your dad.

You should also know your mum chose her husband — your dad — perfectly. There aren’t too many couples I have met that loved each other more than them. If either of my daughters marry a man as strong and loving and caring and funny as your dad, I will be a very happy father. I do hope, though, they will have a better backhand.

Your mother was the most special lady. She was so comfortable in her own skin.

She never sought anything for herself — she just wanted those around her to be happy. She was always so kind and gentle, and generous and giving.

Your mum never once complained about anything. She always looked for the positive — in everything. I don’t think I ever heard her say a bad word, about anybody, or anything.

If the world was full of people with the heart and soul of your mother, it would be a very happy place.

Your mum was also the bravest person I have ever met. She was so incredibly tough.

Your mum fought harder and longer than anyone thought she could. And the way she fought is an example for all of us. Your mum battled with dignity and grace and civility. Few of us could have accepted the cards that had been dealt to you mum as graciously as Ange did.

Most importantly, know that your mum loved you more than anything in the world.

She was so proud of you both.

She loved the fact that you both have impeccable manners, and that you always use people’s names, look people in the eye and are both so generous and kind and giving.

In fairness, I think she loved that you are both so much like her. And for that, you should be so unbelievably thankful, because she was the most magnificent woman.

AFTER all the fighting and battling, I am hopeful your mum is in a peaceful place now. I hope she is surrounded by fun people, and sun and laughter, and good grass tennis courts. I hope she’ll be walking around with friends — old and new. I’m sure she will be talking so fondly of you both. Remember when times get hard, your mum will always be looking out for you both — she’ll always be keeping an eye out for you, watching you from above.

Ange will never be too far away.

Make sure you keep reading her book, and remember that it was written with love, by her, especially for you. It has special and important messages all the way through for you.

Ange has passed on all her learnings to you both. It is very special. Your mum was a very wise lady — take all of her advice she gave you that you can remember, and all the advice she has written for you, and life will look after you both.

Mags and Soph, one last thing: make sure you look after your dad. He is one of a kind — there are no better fathers anywhere that I have seen. He will miss Ange just as much as you both will. Hold his hand often. Hug him. Kiss him. Tell him you love him at least once a day. And for your own wellbeing, help him with his cooking. Always look out for each other. You are a three-person team now — and you will be able to do anything together.

I love you both.

Hame xx

PS. I know your dad wants to me to let everyone know that he is so grateful to everyone for their overwhelming support and love and generosity. He says he will respond to you all in time, but he appreciates all the messages very much.

AMAZING INTERVIEW: Hamish’s 12-words-a-minute chat with Angie Cunningham

To help beat MND, please donate to curemnd.org.au