Heather Maskey
Heather Margaret Maskey was viciously, violently stabbed to death on 16th December 2001, by her estranged husband, who eventually pleaded guilty to premeditated murder. His guilty plea prevented her story being told. Heather's death was preventable. She was one of the fifty women who die in a domestic homicide in NSW each year. One woman a week.

The following was a memorial to Heather Margaret Maskey, mother of three, my friend, for her memorial service January 2002.
R. I. P. Heather (Robyn Cotterell-Jones)

I look after victims of crime, families, and friends, and I try to help individuals and communities to prevent, manage and heal after tragedy. I teach them that today has endless possibilities and that they have choices and the ability to make them. Life, even in the midst of pain, fear and crisis can become more manageable with good, clear support and guidance.

It was a Sunday afternoon in October, 1999 when police first asked me to speak with Heather, who had a real and serious problem based in escalating Domestic Violence. Thus I have only known her during 1999, 2000 and 2001 – a short time compared with others who knew her better and longer. For each of us who knew her, like every individual, Heather was a little different with each of us – the friend, client, daughter, sister, in-law, aunty, co-worker, friend and her most valued and important role, a mother. It is my Heather I want to share with you today.

The day following our telephone contact, my assistant and I had the pleasure of actually meeting Heather and her children. Her son was a polite, quiet, intense young boy of ten, and her daughter was a delightful, shy six year old and her "baby", Maxi, was a stunning, blonde, cheeky imp, and aged about two. From our first meeting, Heather's loving commitment to the best interests of her children was clear, and I constantly observed that mothering her children, teaching them and keeping them safe was always at the very essence of her being. She even Home Schooled them.

Over the next two years, I spoke with Heather hundreds of times. She often felt alone and isolated. It can be ridiculously difficult to stop violence, abuse and threats – the systems of Law and Order, and the Family Court often fail the ones most in need of protection; one with a determined hunter after her. My organisation, at The VOCAL Centre, provided Heather with a place of non-judgmental acceptance along with many strategies and support for dealing with the innumerable challenges that she had to face, and always reliable, good old-fashioned friendship. Many times we advocated for her – trying to get a somewhat unresponsive system to understand the reality of Domestic Violence – asking the system to keep her safe by stopping the violence. The System doesn't respond well to threats of violence.

Sometimes Heather rang just to hear my voice, for a piece of wisdom; she said I could put her back on her feet in seconds when she was feeling low, afraid and uncertain. Heathers particular favourite saying was "You can choose to live like a victim, waiting for "when" or you can choose to be alive and live until you die!" Heather chose to live and it was gratifying to see her faith in herself grow and bloom as one by one, she met challenges and achieved her successes and learned from her efforts. As time went on, Heather re-established herself as a friend to many, a person of purpose, and a person with life lessons to share.

Heather faced her strongest test as she saw her beloved son leave her home to live with his dad. For the rest of her life, Heather struggled to find something to balance that loss along with ways to find the skills and opportunities to help her cope and continue to do the best for the girls. Heather's greatest regret surely, was that she so missed her son's laughter and hugs. And to see him grow - Heather dearly loved each and every one of her children, absolutely unconditionally.

The girls would often come in to the VOCAL Centre with Heather where they would play and we got to know them quite well and I think it is very important and in the children's best interest that they get to remember their mum – their real mum - and I see the role of ensuring that happens falls on all who knew her. There will be publicity about her death that is not true, there will be court records which gave no opportunity for her side to be put – and the community must make sure these children do not ever lose sight of the great lady she was, and that she died in an act of deliberate premeditated violence, just as her killer had constantly assured her would happen. The girls have to remember their mother as the devoted, adoring, feisty, honest and energetic woman that Heather had became, despite her illness which made her weight unstable - as Heather had often said "A real pain in the belly" despite all her hard times.

As you might imagine, over the years Heather and I became dear friends – our roles and relationship having those subtle changes depending on what we needed to achieve. When Heather's mum died mid 2001 she came in and threw her arms around my neck and sobbed "Well now you have to be my mum too". That was such a special gift to me. In December 2001 Heather bought me three mangoes for my birthday - she knew one wouldn't be enough because I have two children and they would always want to share with me. The yellow of mangoes will always remind me of Heather, who, within two weeks of that gift to me, was dead. I had encouraged her to see the gifts of nature to help her relax and to understand the unknown and the power of the higher power that plans our lives, and the need to make the most of every new dawn and its promise.

Both of us loved gardenias - to remind ourselves of nature's natural perfumes. How ironic Heather's life and death – born November 11th,  died 16th December, will ever more be celebrated by me in Gardenia season, the season of her death, the time of mangoes, Gardenias and blue Agapanthus. The time of lovely things, not violent death.

Heather's life was determinedly filled with love, laughter and promise. Many times she delightedly phoned me to share another good thing or a clever saying. She particularly loved this one and she would want me to offer it to you, today. It is about the opportunity that can only come from adversity. She said "when someone is trying to pull the rug out from under you, grab the opportunity to learn to dance on a moving carpet".

This celebration of the life of Heather Margaret Maskey, my friend, challenges us to find the opportunity that can only arise from such tragedy. I can't explain because I just don't know why such suffering must be part of life yet I feel that Heather would challenge us to look beyond our pain and loss and ask what can be done to make her tragic and untimely death, something from which good may prosper.

I would like to thank you all for letting me speak about Heather.

Robyn Cotterell-Jones, (at Heather's memorial service) January 2002.
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The very day after she was murdered, the girls at The VOCAL Centre had received a hand-made Christmas card from Heather and her girls. It read:

“Dearest Robyn, 
Thank you for your non-stop support over the past two years. You are just brilliant. I would never have survived so well without your love and support. Have a lovely time over the break period - although I know the stresses over Christmas go berserk at this time of year, so you will be busy as usual.
Love always, Heather, Tessa and Maxine. xxxx”

It left us feeling as if we failed this woman, yet we have her own words to acknowledge that she chose to live and not like a victim.