It was mum's funeral yesterday; nearly three weeks after she passed away. The day went as well as we could have hoped and below is the text of the eulogy I delivered in church:
Firstly I would like to thank everyone for coming today to the church. I think the last time I was here was around 30 years ago and it’s great to see the church well kept and still going strong at the heart of the local community. Mum used to clean the brasses here a long time ago and I bet she would be equally pleased to see the church full of parishioners and visitors
Firstly I would like to thank everyone for coming today to the church. I think the last time I was here was around 30 years ago and it’s great to see the church well kept and still going strong at the heart of the local community. Mum used to clean the brasses here a long time ago and I bet she would be equally pleased to see the church full of parishioners and visitors
My mother Gwenneth Margaret was
a remarkable woman; kind and generous with her time and affection. Mum lived
her life with a well developed sense of fairness, especially regarding the
treatment of her three boys. Mum had a
lively sense of humour and, as we can see today, a large number of friends. For
anyone thinking who was Gwenneth Margaret, or ‘we only knew her as Margaret’,
my mum was named after her Auntie Gwen, an academic and probably the first
person from the family to go to university. Mum was a bright woman in addition
to the characteristics I’ve already outlined. She was well named, even if her first name was
little known and used infrequently
Mum’s character can be
explained with a few examples of how we, her three sons, were brought up:
Mum was a great believer in
‘giving it your best shot’. No football
manager cliché‘110 %’ nonsense, just an encouragement (maybe echoing the scout
motto) to always do your best, whether in academic study, at sport, or in your
chosen career. This was not to the detriment of whether you enjoyed it, or how
successful you were, but just a constant plea to try hard. ‘Did you do your
best?’ Mum would ask, ‘if you did that’s all you can do’
When my twin brother Michael
and I were little we were allowed to have a Mars bar as a treat, presumably to
allow us to work rest, and play. Now, everyone will know that when you are
small a Mars bar is quite a large treat so mum used to get one of us to cut the
bar into two halves with a knife. The important bit that underlined mum’s sense
of fairness (and her intelligence) was that the twin cutting the bar had second
choice as to which ‘half’ he got. Mum didn’t need to oversee the operation. A
chocolate bar could not have been cut more precisely into two if it had been
done in a laboratory with a laser beam
I hadn’t heard the story
until the days leading up to mum’s passing but while we were sat quietly with
mum one morning David told me that mum bought him his first bass guitar and
amplifier for his 18th birthday. This helped nurture a love of
performing live music that has lasted nearly twenty years for my ‘kid brother’.
I say ‘kid brother’ but David is now closing in on 40, a married man himself,
and the father of a beautiful daughter of his own
Mum’s passing was incredibly
sad and all the more poignant for how quickly she declined towards the end. However
I think we can all take comfort in the fact mum died in her own home surrounded
by her loved ones. During mum’s
final days my partner Stef’s mother Vicki called to ask how things were. Vicki trained
as a nurse as a young woman, so knows a thing or two about caring. She asked me
several simple but important questions regarding mum’s welfare:
Is your mum at home? She
asked. Yes, she hasn’t had to leave the
house
Is mum upstairs in her own
room? Yes, she’s sleeping in her own bed
Is mum in pain? No, her pain is being managed very well by competent
and caring nurses
Is mum alone? No, mum is with her family and several old
friends have been to see her regularly
The answers I gave Vicki should
give us all comfort and a degree of solace regarding mum’s final days
Mum died on Sunday 3rd
of February barely two weeks after anyone, including her own consultant, really
understood how unwell she had become. She said one day to Michael that she
wasn’t ready to go, but faded away with her usual serene good grace and still
displaying a wonderful sense of humour. There is a light that never goes out. Mum
will surely be missed by a great number of people
Lovely words DT. It sounds like you mum was a fantastic and inspirational woman. I hope yesterday went ok.
ReplyDeleteFirstly, very well said DT and secondly, well done for delivering that eulogy. You have made her very proud. Best Wishes
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