There was not a dry eye in the house, and biased as I am, it was a good service for a change though how anyone heard it I have no idea, I lost it completely after a few minutes, not helped by the wonderful music we played. It was good simply for the personal side of it. The pictures you see here were handed round for all to hold and feel. Music played throughout. The first tune was Lakme's Flower Duet. If you think of the british airways advert then you have it....
So here are the words that I managed to blub out.....
Welcome everyone,
I’m really glad you all came today, Babs and I pondered for a long time wondering what Dorothy would have wanted for a service. I don’t think she would have liked this place much….If she had her way we would no doubt be in a forest somewhere hugging a tree or sabotaging chain saws, seriously, I remember being mortified at her doing that when I was a kid only it wasn’t a chain saw, it was a 20 ton digger and she poured sugar into it’s fuel tank, How dare these animals destroy a beautiful landscape to build an ore terminal. Dorothy was an eco warrior when no one new what that meant. She had guts did mom.
I don’t know about you but I hate these places (crematoriums), cold impersonal, they don’t reflect anything but misery. Even worse is when some sanctimonious minister stands up and spouts forth what a great person so and so was when you know they never even met them.
You cant describe a person like that, whether they were good parents or good daughters or went to church once a week like a clockwork automaton, that doesn’t describe a person.
(At this point the sound of Barbour's, Adagio surrounded us. )
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Look at this, 18 years old, 1945 the war is just over or just about to end. Look at the stride, purposeful, going somewhere, all her life ahead of her. Strong, wilful, look at the eyes. Excitement and determination. A future to build. Her head is cocked slightly to the side, she is listening to music others cant hear. Within a couple of years from now, she is off to America to make her fortune. To live a life….And she did by all accounts, well she didn’t make a fortune but she certainly lived a life…..
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Look at this. 14 years later, 1959 32 years old, Married now, with a young child. Oh so Beautiful with style and verve. Even more determined but now protective too. A child to bring up, a home to make oh and plans too…..things to do. Fights to fight too. Ban the bomb, the CND marches down Aberdeens main street pushing her pram and waiving her banner., Green peace. Save the whale. There were Kindnesses to do, people and animals to help and protect from the evils that men do out there. A remarkable picture…..
Time passes…….
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16 years go by. Look at this….1975, 48 years old, younger than I am right now. Look at this. The face is older. Some lines have appeared. Life has dealt her some savage blows. A divorce just passed, her mother ill and senile and moved in to our home so Dorothy can care for her. Dementia is a terrible thing and when her delightful son is not making bombs and blowing up half the garden, (she should never have given me that damn chemistry set) then her mother was burning the kitchen down with chip pan fires and hiding the evidence at the bottom of the garden……….
She is working in a mental hospital outpatients and the money is rubbish and the work depressing. She gets migraine headaches and bouts of depression but look at the eyes, they truly are the window to the soul. She has plans. The house is for sale and she has her eye on a new place out in the country, it’s big, vast tracts of land, it’s got potential and she doesn’t know the meaning of the word cant. She has just met this real handsome guy, John Conner, he has offered to buy the house off her and even asked her out for a meal, he’s crazy but then the good ones always are, Normal is boring……..
She is working in a mental hospital outpatients and the money is rubbish and the work depressing. She gets migraine headaches and bouts of depression but look at the eyes, they truly are the window to the soul. She has plans. The house is for sale and she has her eye on a new place out in the country, it’s big, vast tracts of land, it’s got potential and she doesn’t know the meaning of the word cant. She has just met this real handsome guy, John Conner, he has offered to buy the house off her and even asked her out for a meal, he’s crazy but then the good ones always are, Normal is boring……..
(Now the sounds of Stanley Myers Cavatina rang clear)
But time ticks on
Within a couple of years from this photo, her mother is dead, John Conner is dead, her son has left home and Alzhiemers is slowly eating away at her capabilities. Oh it’s years yet before the really bad stuff happens but it’s a beginning and she knows what it is, she recognises the symptoms.
But throughout it all she is smiling, laughing, making weird jokes that others don’t get, helping people, rescuing animals and fighting the good fight. Trying to delay or stop the enevitable.
She nearly did it. Thirty three years down the line from this picture. 81 years old and here we are today.
But mom didn’t die last Friday, Mom died years ago, she crept away so quietly and softly that none of us noticed she was gone. Oh her heart ticked on, A heart that big, of course it did. And just occasionally, through a smile or a chuckle or a glance, like you spot a small child peaking out the windows of a huge house. Just a glimpse, a flicker from the eyes and it was gone and you looked at her and you wondered if it was really there at all.
How do you judge a life, well obviously by what you leave behind and in moms case it’s me and her grandchildren here and the memories that each of us who met her have. And even if all you ever knew of her was a wee smile and a chuckle even then, she touched you, she became part of you. Warmed your heart just a wee bit.
But there was more…..
Let me tell you a wee story, not about mom, about me……as you know I broke my leg a few months ago and whilst sitting in hostpital, miserable and bored and a little bit scared, I logged onto one of those self help sites (http://www.mybrokenleg.com/) that spring up everywhere on the internet. A great place full of sad scared miserable funny people all ranting and raving and asking broken leg questions. You quickly get the measure of people even through the written word, there’s the selfish ones, The downright weird ones, the frightened puppies and the generous honest and loving ones. Just the usual mix of humanity really….And there was one wifey kept popping up, an nice lady, another animal loving hippy crazy type person just like mom, But she was always holding peoples hands, cheering them up. Checking they were ok. She was in a wheel chair after a really bad accident. and cos she is not wealthy and lives in a country where, without money or insurance, you can forget getting medical help, she wasn’t getting better herself, so she spent her time helping others. A cool lady. When someone asked what physiotherapy she was getting, she said “none, I cant afford luxuries like that.”
So to cut a long story short, I bought her some physiotherapy, I sent a few hundred dollars over and got her some help and sure enough she is walking now. Slowly with a stick and a bit of a limp but she is getting there and doing ok last I heard and I haven’t told anyone that story nor any of the other stories till today not even Barbara. Because it’s nobodies business…. It wasn’t important, well except to the lady.
But it’s relevant to today, Why do you help total strangers,,,, because that’s what Dorothy would do…That’s what she has left behind.. That’s what she taught me to do, not big effusive in your face gestures, Not anonymous tax deductible payments to big expensive charities run by men in tailored suits….just a life time of little direct kindnesses. Sitting having a meal with a beggar or stopping for someone who breaks down, Not in some kind of selfish bargain with God,
“if I’m a good boy, I will go to heaven…”
But time ticks on
Within a couple of years from this photo, her mother is dead, John Conner is dead, her son has left home and Alzhiemers is slowly eating away at her capabilities. Oh it’s years yet before the really bad stuff happens but it’s a beginning and she knows what it is, she recognises the symptoms.
But throughout it all she is smiling, laughing, making weird jokes that others don’t get, helping people, rescuing animals and fighting the good fight. Trying to delay or stop the enevitable.
She nearly did it. Thirty three years down the line from this picture. 81 years old and here we are today.
But mom didn’t die last Friday, Mom died years ago, she crept away so quietly and softly that none of us noticed she was gone. Oh her heart ticked on, A heart that big, of course it did. And just occasionally, through a smile or a chuckle or a glance, like you spot a small child peaking out the windows of a huge house. Just a glimpse, a flicker from the eyes and it was gone and you looked at her and you wondered if it was really there at all.
How do you judge a life, well obviously by what you leave behind and in moms case it’s me and her grandchildren here and the memories that each of us who met her have. And even if all you ever knew of her was a wee smile and a chuckle even then, she touched you, she became part of you. Warmed your heart just a wee bit.
But there was more…..
Let me tell you a wee story, not about mom, about me……as you know I broke my leg a few months ago and whilst sitting in hostpital, miserable and bored and a little bit scared, I logged onto one of those self help sites (http://www.mybrokenleg.com/) that spring up everywhere on the internet. A great place full of sad scared miserable funny people all ranting and raving and asking broken leg questions. You quickly get the measure of people even through the written word, there’s the selfish ones, The downright weird ones, the frightened puppies and the generous honest and loving ones. Just the usual mix of humanity really….And there was one wifey kept popping up, an nice lady, another animal loving hippy crazy type person just like mom, But she was always holding peoples hands, cheering them up. Checking they were ok. She was in a wheel chair after a really bad accident. and cos she is not wealthy and lives in a country where, without money or insurance, you can forget getting medical help, she wasn’t getting better herself, so she spent her time helping others. A cool lady. When someone asked what physiotherapy she was getting, she said “none, I cant afford luxuries like that.”
So to cut a long story short, I bought her some physiotherapy, I sent a few hundred dollars over and got her some help and sure enough she is walking now. Slowly with a stick and a bit of a limp but she is getting there and doing ok last I heard and I haven’t told anyone that story nor any of the other stories till today not even Barbara. Because it’s nobodies business…. It wasn’t important, well except to the lady.
But it’s relevant to today, Why do you help total strangers,,,, because that’s what Dorothy would do…That’s what she has left behind.. That’s what she taught me to do, not big effusive in your face gestures, Not anonymous tax deductible payments to big expensive charities run by men in tailored suits….just a life time of little direct kindnesses. Sitting having a meal with a beggar or stopping for someone who breaks down, Not in some kind of selfish bargain with God,
“if I’m a good boy, I will go to heaven…”
Well sorry but if that’s how God works then he can shove heaven. neither of us believed in that stuff. She believed just in a simple humanity. Mom spent her whole life handing out a series of small kindnesses to neighbours, friends and strangers, if fact to every living thing. That’s what she leaves behind…..And like ripples in water, through all the people the kindnesses were given to and through her son and her grandchildren, Dorothy’s effect on life and people spreads outwards to touch us all.
I highly recommend it, it makes for really good Karma and I think both mom and I believe in good Karma. Oh It doesn’t stop the bad things in life but it makes the good things even better and the memories even sweeter.
Memories………..
Memories are fragile things, Ask mom, she lost all hers….These photos came out of a box full of photos some dating back to the earliest days of photography. People with long coats and animated faces…relatives, friends and we have no idea who the hell they are.
So All of you, Please don’t just make memories, set them down, record them, at the very least write some names and dates down on the back of the ruddy photos. Don’t waste memories, they are way more precious than you think and they are so easily lost……..
A few days after mom was born in 1927, an American poet Max Ehrmann sat down and wrote one of moms favourite pieces of verse. It was placed in the wall and I grew up with it's sentiments. If you lived through the 60’s you may remember it.
I highly recommend it, it makes for really good Karma and I think both mom and I believe in good Karma. Oh It doesn’t stop the bad things in life but it makes the good things even better and the memories even sweeter.
Memories………..
Memories are fragile things, Ask mom, she lost all hers….These photos came out of a box full of photos some dating back to the earliest days of photography. People with long coats and animated faces…relatives, friends and we have no idea who the hell they are.
So All of you, Please don’t just make memories, set them down, record them, at the very least write some names and dates down on the back of the ruddy photos. Don’t waste memories, they are way more precious than you think and they are so easily lost……..
A few days after mom was born in 1927, an American poet Max Ehrmann sat down and wrote one of moms favourite pieces of verse. It was placed in the wall and I grew up with it's sentiments. If you lived through the 60’s you may remember it.
(As I pulled out the text to read it, the music changed to Pie Jesu, the andrew lloyd webber version)
Desiderata
- Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.
Max said something else too. (At this point in the service, with Pie Jesu the requiem playing in the background, Young Jack, Dorothies 11 year grandson stood and in a clear voice recited the following...as he spoke, the curtains round mom closed for the last time)
To be loved in life is life's greatest gift.
To be loved in death for some bit of beauty one has given the world, is to take from death some of its sting.
Life has need of all the charm of word and sound, of colour and carven stone that love can give it.
Dorothy is loved both in life and in death and her memories and her series of small kindnesses will ripple on through time for a long long time.
Now in true Scottish tradition, and at moms expense, lets leave this miserable place and go and make some good memories come alive. Lets celebrate our humanity…..Because That…. I think….. is exactly what Dorothy would have wanted.
Thank you all for coming…..
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We walked away to the wonderful sound of Ella Fitzgerald singing "summer time". It's sound lifting our feet and hearts.
And indeed we retired to a local hostelry and consumed a few nippy sweeties and swapped tales of love and regrets.
To all who came, thank you, to all who would have been there but couldn't thank you. To every one else. Thank you and take only love and hope for when all is said and done, it is a wonderful life.
Chris Ward 30th May 2008
