AMELIA

Last week we were abruptly reminded of the fragility of life. We lost a friend. A beautiful, beautiful friend.

I found Amelia when she blogged as Mama Muesli Bar. Her honesty was so raw and refreshing. When I came to know her better, I found this to be one of her truest qualities. She said what she thought, without filter, and I loved her for that.

Our friendship was built on the internet. Such a strange thing to feel close to someone who you have never met in person, lives in another state, only conversing online. Life moved along and we watched each other's children grow bigger and brighter; and then the same in our professional lives.

Amelia came to Melbourne one weekend; a rejuvenation trip of sorts. A group dinner was organised for the Saturday night but I already had family plans I couldn't get out of, so we arranged for a breaky date the following morning. We met at Southbank on a cool, bright morning, after phoning each other when we had realised our idea of 'the footbridge' meeting spot were two different things..

She hugged me like we were old friends, as if we'd known each other forever. The warmth that radiated from her was something else.. I can still hear her voice, see her big, wide smile - 'OH MY GOD! (stepping back to look at me properly) YOU'RE HOT!' Suitably embarrassed, we walked to the nearest cafe and perched ourselves in the sunshine, strong hot coffees ordered.

We talked and talked. About nothing and everything. It was so easy. She'd been struggling with keeping a balance between motherhood and work and we laughed loudly at each other's anecdotes of our epic parenting fails. We watched a mother of two on the banks of the river wrangle her smalls, clutching her coffee, looking fairly unimpressed with it all. We pondered whether we looked like mothers when we're not with our children. She looked like she wanted to trade places with us - care and child free in that moment.

We talked shop, of course. How hard we found the juggling sometimes. How much easier it must be for more experienced photographers, especially the men. 'Well of course!' she said. 'They've got hot wives looking after their kids while they edit uninterrupted. We ARE the hot wives looking after the kids AND taking the photos!' I think I nearly snorted coffee out my nose, I laughed so hard.

You were something special, darling girl. The brightest light, radiating warmth and inspiration to everyone who knew you. I feel blessed to have known you. You and your big, boisterous laugh. Your honest tongue and beautiful smile. You will be so sorely missed xx