Well, I've come back from Dad's funeral now. As far as this blog goes, I will eventually get back to my normal life; as far as my normal life goes, I will probably go through, as well as grieving, the same soul searching I did when Mum died: if anything, it may prompt me to find a way of making the change of day job I want to happen - or to try to :)
The funeral has brought some of us closer together, which has been good. On the other hand, the travelling has confirmed how bad domestic air travel is, and that I should continue to avoid it as much as possible - but that is a matter for another time.
Although it is not really relevant to this blog, I would like to honour my father by posting his eulogy here. I then checked, and found I didn't do that for Mum when I wrote about her funeral, so I will add hers as well. (I've taken out or modified some names for privacy reasons - I referred to living people by name, and do not have their permission to do so here - and would not ask it: it is more important they be allowed to grieve) I've added a few links.
I'm never happy with something like this - it is so hard to reduce decades of living down to a few minutes of talking, but I'm pleased that others asked for copies of the eulogies: it must have meant something to them. In the case of Dad's eulogy, people were sharing stories about his life as well afterwards, so I feel like it worked.
Courtesy of being adopted I have one more parent left: my birth Mum (my birth father died before I found them).
If this is of no interest to you, please feel free to move on by :)
I also wish to repeat a comment I made here, abut those whose experience of family is not as healthy as mine has been.
"And yes, all this is being written by the woman who keeps giving warnings about families, how they aren’t all good, and they don’t have the right to control people, etc.
Why?Well, I know people who have suffered through some appalling families, but the situation is also a little akin to someone I’ve said about relationships and domestic violence. I am of the view that partners in a relationship should have enough financial and other reserves to be able to leave if they need to (or want to). That should be an example set, in particular, by those in good relationships – who can agree to do so without rancour or stress. That leads to people who are in bad relationships being able to hold them up as an example, and perhaps say “well, relationship X is solid, and they’ve done this, so I think we should as well, to also set an example”. That would work in possibly only a low percentage of abusive relationships, but that’s better than nothing, and maybe it will lead to people automatically making sure they have enough to leave before they go into a relationship.Similarly, it is most impactful if people who have good family situations say “hey, I know I’m on a good thing here, but I appreciate it, and I know that not everyone is as fortunate, so we shouldn’t put pressure on those people by being insensitive, or presumptuous, or put them in a situation of having to say ‘hey, well, my situation isn’t/wasn’t so good, you know’ ”."
Love, light, hugs and blessings
Copy of my (adoptive) father's eulogy
The single word most commonly used to
describe Dad by those who knew him was "gentleman". I’ve talked to a
few people who knew Dad in recent times, and all of them found him to be a
considerate, caring, well-mannered and dignified gentleman.
I don’t know if he had those
characteristics all his life. Growing up in West Rockhampton was tough – as
Dad’s sister, _ can probably confirm. It was the time of the Great Depression,
and Dad’s father, also called I_, earned what he could as a labourer. Later,
that also included working for the yanks when they were building their air
bases in Rocky during the Second World War.
And that was a time when Dad discovered his
love of flying, and of photography.
He has some truly amazing photos of those
times – including various planes, and family members and events. There are also
photos of what are possibly historic events, such as major floods.
As I said, it was not easy living there
then.
Going back to the planes for a moment, Dad
had a few interesting stories. One was about a young friend of his who
horrified his mother by taking a machine gun from a plane which had crashed –
and which couldn’t be fired because of the bent barrel and removal of the
firing pin – and taking it home.
Dad ended the war training to be a
navigator – he was two weeks off being assigned to active duty when the war
ended. He talked a few times about friends he made in those days.
Dad also had a very level headed
perspective on some of the martinets he came across at that time, comments
along the lines that a few tried to be disciplinarians, but it didn’t do too
much. Dad believed in discipline, but starting with self discipline, which
showed with his successes in sport. He played soccer when he was younger, and
came up with what sounds like the off-side trap, and was proud of having won an
amateur boxing tournament.
Somewhere around this time, Dad started
working in the railways, and spent, he told me, 7 years there. During that
time, he came across a number of characters – such as the worker who would put
his alarm clock inside a kerosene tin to make sure he had no choice but the get
up when it went off.
Dad appreciated a good story, and had a
great sense of humour. I can still remember the corny jokes he would bring back
from the Irish Club, and we generally would swap a joke or two whenever we
talked.
Another characteristic Dad had was
intelligence, and this, I think, was to everyone’s benefit when he started in
the old Commercial Bank of Australia – the CBA, as it was then known, before
the Commonwealth pinched the acronym. Dad’s work for the bank w while he was
studying as despite the efforts of cousin _, who played “From a Jack to A King” fairly loudly, but Dad got even by forcing
everyone to listen to the Goons.
Dad’s initial work in the bank was in
Alpha, and he has told me a few stories from that time. I’ll relay just one,
which is how, one cold winter morning, he and a colleague added a dash of rum
to their morning cuppa. Others gradually joined in, and apparently calling in
for a morning cuppa at the bank became quite popular, for some reason.
Alpha, of course, is also where Dad met
Mum, and this is where I can start talking about how he was a loving and caring
man.
As I said at Mum’s funeral, when people
meet, sometimes it is said sparks fly; in the case of H_ and I_ it was
an ambulance siren turned on when the driver spotted them kissing behind a
tree.
They were married in Rockhampton on the 28th
of September, 1953, and that was the start of a 54 year relationship. You would
be hard pressed to find a better example of a more loving, genuine and long
lasting commitment.
In 1958 they moved to Melbourne, knowing
no-one, and with a three week old baby – me. They stuck it out, and their
life’s circumstances improved. Because of Dad’s work in the bank, they had a
few more moves to make in the life they shared together: to Mackay in 197_, to
Townsville in 198_, with retirement to Brisbane in 198_.
They had their ups and downs, but they
stayed together and cared for each other. When Dad retired, he was at a bit of
a loose end, and Mum stepped in and got him busy doing odd jobs about the
house. Her passing was a blow to – well, all of us, but obviously it was a
particular blow to Dad. I’ve been a bit surprised he has lasted as long as he
has since Mum’s passing, but I’m glad that they are now – in my opinion –
together.
I’m also glad his suffering has passed. The
deterioration he went through in his last few years wasn’t easy to watch, and
it certainly wasn’t easy for Dad, but he bore it with as much dignity and
gentlemanly style as he could.
He also had an enormous amount of help in
these times, as did Mum, from my sister, _, and her husband. Heartfelt thanks
are owed to both of you. It hasn’t been easy, particularly in these last few
months.
Dad’s caring for people came through in his
banking career. Dad liked being able to help people and businesses, and hated
what happened to banking in the 90s. I think he must have been quite good at
that, because the CBA in Mackay seemed to fund a long line of Maltese family
weddings – to which we were invited.
There were harder times in banking as well,
and Dad had a few stories about the times people would break down in his office
over having approved loans that went bad. His attitude was to prefer continuing
to help people – as he said, it may take only a small amount extra, on top of
what already been invested.
I’d like go back to one of the moves: to
Mackay in 1972. At that time, I became active in sailing, and Dad also wound up
getting involved – as financier, and supporter. He didn’t get into sailing much
himself, but stepped in one weekend that I was preparing for a regatta. My crew
was available on the Saturday, but not the Sunday. Dad watched us for a while
on the Saturday, from up on top of the breakwater, built high enough above the
water to cope with a cyclone, and then crewed for me on the Sunday, sitting
about a foot and a half above the water. That led to a conversation which went
something like this:
Dad: “how big are those waves today?”
Me: “About 8 to 10 feet”
Dad: “And how big were they yesterday?”
Me: “About 10 to 12 feet”
Dad, in a dry voice: “They look bigger,
from down here.”
Dad stepping in to help like that was
typical of his caring and devotion to family. I’ve mentioned _ and _: their
kids and grandkids were also a big part of his life.
He was, of course, a big part of our lives
– and the other people he touched.
Dad, may you rest in peace and love; we’ll
grieve now, strongly, but may the longer part of that be our remembrance of
your love, dignity, and humour. Rest well, good and gentle sir.
Copy of my (adoptive) mother's eulogy
The
basic details of my mother’s life are that she was born on the _, 1928, had two children, two grandchildren and one great-grandchild, and
passed away on the _, 2007.
She
and her life were, of course, so much more than those bare numbers.
H_
was born in Clermont to a Scottish father, _, and English mother, _, who was
originally an O_. She had three siblings: the older _ and _, and the younger _.
Her early life was on a property near Alpha, and lacked the mod-cons of modern
life. Mum once told me she was glad she no longer had to heat water in a
copper, and she had a few stories of the kids going to school on the back of a
horse, and of an occasion when they were running low on meat when the men were
all away and she was given the task of slaughtering a sheep for food.
She
also had a corny joke about a horse with a sulky behind that stuck in my mind
for many years. H_ had a few corny jokes.
I
think H_’s country skills stayed with her. One day in the 60s, when we were
living in an outer suburb of Melbourne, I found my younger sister playing with
a snake one winter’s day, and Mum made short shrift of the snake with a
shovel.
H_
met I_ in 1952, when she was working in a hospital, and he was working in the
bank. When people meet, sometimes it is said sparks fly; in the case of H_ and I_
it was an ambulance siren turned on when the driver spotted them kissing behind
a tree.
They
were married in Rockhampton on the 28th of September, 1953, and that
was the start of a 54 year relationship. You would be hard pressed to find a
better example of a more loving, genuine and long lasting commitment.
That
love and commitment would be tested at times – as it was in 1958 when they
moved to Melbourne, knowing no-one, and with a three week old baby – me. Mum
travelled down to Melbourne on a DC3, and told me I was brought out from a cot
in the back of the plane whenever I needed my next feed.
In
those early days in Melbourne, I_ would get home from work and ask how H_’s day
had been, and she would burst into tears.
They
stuck it out, and their life’s circumstances improved. Because of Dad’s work in
the bank, they had a few more moves to make in the life they shared together:
to Mackay in 1971, to Townsville in 1982, with retirement to Brisbane in 1985.
By the time they got to Townsville, they had been through a few moves, but it
was still tough. It was there H_ once asked I_ if he ever got lonely, and it
was there that she began her work as a volunteer with Lifeline.
I
mention the challenges of these moves because H_ had a courage that some may
not have fully appreciated. Her courage was of the type that shines when coping
with the worst trials and tribulations of everyday life: making major moves
before Dad retired, and, more recently, coping with her illness.
In
addition to her courage, Mum had a tremendous patience in all sorts of
circumstances – patience that helped her cope with the many problems which everybody
strikes in over 50 years of married life. She had a tremendous motherly feeling
towards her family, and would come up with all sorts of schemes to help her
loved ones. When sitting around with Dad, she would _ounce these schemes by
saying “I’ve been thinking”, and he would grab his chair in pretended terror at
the next revelation.
I’d
like go back to one of the moves: to Mackay in 1972. At that time, I became
active in sailing, and Mum became involved in the sailing club as one of the
auxiliary members. She took on tasks such as working in the canteen and helping
organise functions. Every August we would go to Kurrimine Beach for a couple of
weeks for a regatta, and she and the other ladies of the club would always have
a good time - particularly with the card games.
That
good time may have been helped just a little by the sherry.
One
year the organisers of the regatta decided to hold a Mothers Race. All the
various mothers were rounded up and put in a boat with one of their offspring,
and given the task of being skipper. H_ won that race - and she was the only
mother who actually steered the boat throughout the race. Those skills
obviously stayed with her. In recent years when taken shopping in a wheelchair
by daughter _ and granddaughter _, she would “direct traffic” with one finger
from her wheelchair – and it was up to _ and _ to follow the signals. If things
were going too slowly, Mum would take her feet off the foot-stops and walk the
chair along herself. It was no wonder those other mothers didn’t have a chance
all those years ago at Kurrimine.
H_’s
creative side also developed further at that time, and included involvement in
craft activities such as Hobbytex and leatherwork. Quite a few members of the sailing
club had T shirts with the club emblem on that Mum and the other ladies in the
club auxiliary made, and many also had leather stubby holders which she carved
their name into - Dad still has his.
One
of the other areas she showed her creativity was music. It was while in Mackay
that Dad bought an organ for H_ and _ to learn to play. That organ stayed with
the family for many years, and through quite a few moves, until recently, when
it was donated to a young woman in this church who apparently couldn’t afford
to buy an organ. That donation pleased H_ enormously, and fitted her generous
nature.
Another
area that Mum showed her creativity in – and her caring - was in her cooking.
There is a dish she helped prepare at Kurrimine Beach, a chicken dish cooked in
a camp oven, that I still remember to this day, more than 30 years later. Her
roasts were absolutely wonderful, and her corned beef fritters were even better
– Mum’s grandson _ in particular loved his Gran’s corned beef fritters.
H_
was always absolutely wonderful with kids. She adored her grandchildren, _ and _,
and they adored their Gran back. A major part of Mum’s life in the last couple
of decades has been _ and her family, and the support they – and Dad - have
given her in recent years, and in particular in the last six months, has been
absolutely outstanding – it has been without compare.
H_’s
normally happy nature was severely tested by medical setbacks over the recent
years, but she faced those with courage and determination – which,
unfortunately, was not enough. We, her family, have never been more proud of
her than in the way she faced her debilitating illness, and the strength with
which she faced it’s inevitable end.
There
were moments of humour, though. I’ve mentioned that _ and _ would take Mum
shopping. Later, as her illness progressed and she was no longer able to join
in these trips, they would include her by phoning about purchases. Recently,
they rang her to discuss a toy for great-grandson _. After having the toy
and why it was such a bargain described in great detail, and asking whether she
thought that would be good for him, Mum asked what other toys the store had.
_’s
husband, _, will give the second part of this eulogy.
Mum’s
life in the last few decades also notably included her work at Lifeline. She
worked 25 years as a volunteer, and was recognised for that with a special
award a few years ago.
In
addition, H_ was strongly involved in the church’s activities, with the craft
group, card group and bus trips to places such as the Mary Valley Rattler. Mum
has obviously made a powerful impression through these groups, as some of the
earliest sympathy cards came to Dad from some of the other church ladies.
She
had the ability to make a great impression on many people. One of my friends in
Melbourne, also called H_, treasures the bed throw that Mum crocheted for her
young son. My partner, who unfortunately can’t be here today, was also deeply
touched by Mum’s welcome into the family. They shared an interest in
leatherwork, and when we were both up here a few months ago and came home with
a few newly bought leather tools, Mum was straight out of bed to show how the
tools should be used.
That
helpfulness, and that touching of others’ hearts. was characteristic of H_, and
her caring, loving nature. She had such a lovely, easy going nature that people
instinctively liked her and were happy to claim her as a friend. At a time of
sadness like this, it is an uplifting feeling to see the love and respect of so
many family and friends, and we thank you for this.
My
mother’s love shaped and touched the hearts of many us, much as wind can shape
stone. As with the wind, we can’t see H_ now, but we can see the effects she
has had on us, and that her legacy will continue to have on us. It shows and
will always show in the way we live our lives. We can honour her by living up
to her example of courage, commitment, humour and love.
