ROSS FITZGERALD

No. It’s not because November 5 is the date of the American election, in which Ronald Thump (my fictional creation in the Grafton Everest political satires) may win by a whisker.

No. It’s not because November 5 is the date of the Melbourne Cup, in which Francesco Guardi, trainer by Chris Waller is a good each-way bet at 26 to 1.

It is actually because on November 5 (Guy Fawkes Day) 1974, at the instigation of my long time friend Barry Humphries, I met the luminous model and actor Lyndal Moor at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting, at St Vincent’s hospital in Darlinghurst.
Since that day, Lundal joined AA and never drank alcohol again.

It is also because on November 5 (Guy Fawkes Day) 1975 Lyndal and I first made love, and because on November 5 (Guy Fawkes Day) 1976 we were married in the garden of Lyndal’s little terrace house – at 2 Leinster Street, Paddington.

When Lyndal left the mega-rich Clyde Packer to marry me, Barry Humphries quipped; “Lyndal’s gone from diamonds to boiled lollies!”

On November 5, 1605 Guy Fawkes and 12 other Provincial English Catholics attempted to assassinate Protestant King James 1 and to blow up the House of Lords.

On my fifth AA birthday, Australia Day 1975, I talked Lyndal out of standing for John Singleton’s free-market ,right-libertarian Australia Party, which had been supported by Clyde Packer.

When I told Lyndal that Guy Fawkes was perhaps the only person ever to enter parliament with honest intentions, she understood what I meant, and roared with laughter.
Lyndal’s laughter, her loyalty, her honesty, and her beauty are four of the things I valued most about her.

My wife and friend of 45 years, Lyndal Moor Fitzgerald died at 5am on Wednesday 22 January 2020 – at the Wolper Jewish Hospice in Woollahra.

Remarkably, for someone who is almost 80, Lyndal’s is the only dead body I have ever seen. She looked radiant.

A week before she died, Lyndal said , “I know that I criticise you Rossi, but I want you to know that I love you to bits.”

Lyndal also said, “Do you know that, in all our time together, you never criticised me once?”

Wasn’t I lucky to share my life with such a woman?

And how fortunate am I to have such a wonderful daughter Emerald, such a delightful granddaughter Ava, such a dynamic grandson River, and such a fine son-in-law, Adrian?

But the truth is that I miss darling Lyndal more and more each day.

Ross Fitzgerald
Greystoke”, Redfern, New South Wales, Australia.