Eulogies are often characterised by extravagant sentiment and exaggerated deeds. You find yourself asking, ‘Who is this person? Is this the same person that I knew?’ Death is somehow more palatable if we say nice things about the person.
In some ways Valda Iris Watt was a simple person who lived a simple life, and yet it would diminish her legacy to leave it at that.
Valda was an extraordinary woman whose mental acumen and memory never failed until the end.
Who among us could remember minute details of a dog your parents had 45 years ago or remember at 96-years-old what you needed when writing the ubiquitous shopping list so you’d have provisions to feed a flock a birds which swarmed your backyard each day, or who even lives to an age of 96 and lives independently in their own home? So we have the extraordinary in the mundane.
If known at all, Valda would be known as the Bird Lady of Ocean Shores, feeding kookaburras, magpies and currawongs out of her hand, making cakes for rainbow lorikeets and pulped pellets of bread for all and sundry –cockatoos, ibis, brush turkeys… These were her true love.
She recognised each call and responded to it, buying kilos of mince, bread in restaurant quantities and multiple packets of seeds each week. No expense was spared by this pensioner for those birds and they returned her love with their constant company.
Watching her feed the birds was like having a front row seat in a big bird sanctuary. She knew migration patterns, birds who visited from as far afield as New Guinea, simply from their calls.
Valda loved arts and craft and her craftsmanship was exemplary in a plethora of areas – knitting, crocheting, tapestry, needlepoint, candle-wicking, pottery, cakemaking and decorating, patchworking, quilting and sewing; the quality of this craftsmanship evident in miscellaneous items on display and prizes she received for competition entries.
Generosity
She gave blankets to hospitals, hospices, extended family, friends and strangers; some of her work to be passed down through generations as heirlooms.
Valda remembered conversations and could quote verbatim. She remembered appointments and forgave care-workers when they forgot them. In fact, these same care-workers she adored and they adored her too. Some she treated as sons and daughters, never having any children herself, although some of them predeceased her. Her sharp intellect and perspicacity being quick to assess a person’s character and motivation.
Dolls figured prominently in her life; many of which are beautifully displayed, in their original, well- preserved condition. Her dolls, a lifetime’s collection, chronicle more than 100 years and are exquisitely dressed by Valda in clothes replete with minute detail.
I learnt a lot from Valda. As godmother to my 43-year-old daughter and dear friend and confidante for 47 years, she never forgot either of my children’s birthdays or Christmas and they always looked forward to her card and monetary gift.
Walda was so organised; today we’d disparage it by calling her anal. When she passed away, there was a beautiful leather-bound folder of information containing documents which covered the trajectory of her life and that of her family from birth certificates and school reports to passports old and new, lotto wins, jewellery valuations and vaccinations. A snapshot of life in a folder!
One person cannot change all who comes in contact with them but they can change the life of some. I, for one, am richer for having had such an extraordinary woman in my life. Her life was anything but simple, as is the legacy she left.
For four decades The Echo has printed the stories some people loved, some people hated, and some pretended not to read. If you want us to keep telling the truth, the real truth, not the sugar-coated version. We’ll need your support to keep the presses rolling. 
