Summing up my Mum

This is what I read at Mum's funeral:

What can we say about Mum? She was our Mum! Our leader, our sounding board, our friend, our advisor, our confidant. She was the centre of our world, and was a constant throughout our lives. She was our matriarch, and a very, very special woman, and we were blessed to have had a mum like her.

 

Mum was a provider. Of love, of warmth, of safety. She was the master of knowing just what to do or what to say to make things better. She was a provider of physical things too. Many of you here at some stage will have been the recipient of her culinary skills, and we have all inherited her cooking skills to a greater or lesser extent (some of us to the lesser....). Mum was a fantastic cook of hearty REAL food, and this was why she was so popular while working at the Stringers. if an army marches on its belly, Mum made sure the crews kept marching.

 

Cooking wasn't the only place Mum excelled though.

 

We all  have vivid memories of Mum's sewing prowess. Any trip to Dunedin or a family outing as a toddler was spent riding in the back of the car in your knickers and singlet while Mum frantically tried to hem your brand new outfit in the front of the car while travelling the pigroot. Even when we grew bigger and the outfits got fancier her time keeping ability never changed, and many a night before school formals was spent staying up into the wee small hours being fitted and refitted while Mum perfected the details. The job always got done though, and we never had a trip to Deka naked. Even once we had grown up and had our own children, any scruffy urchins who arrived at grandma's house with torn pants were dispatched home across the paddock nicely mended,

 

Mum took real pride in anything she did, and orangapai was her own little patch of paradise. Running Orangapai was often hard work, but she took to it with gusto learning how to tag sheep, drench, foot rot and any other of the hundred little jobs that keep a sheep stud running. While she could have chosen an easier sheep to work with rather than the 100 + KG suffolks that thrived on that country, they were her own, and her flock was a credit to her.

 

Even around the house Mum was never left incapable. After Dad died she taught herself to use the ride on lawnmower and use the chainsaw, keeping the huge yard tidy and the house looking as spic and span as we always remembered it while growing up. Mum never shied away from hard work, and never complained. When things got tough she just pulled up her socks and got on with it, and it's that sort of resilience that is the greatest legacy she could have left us kids.

 

If there was anything good to come from Dad dying, it's that it made us all brutally aware of how precious family really is, and all four of us made a more concerted effort to spend more time with Mum, call her more, catch up more. Mum has been the pillar of our family, and was always available for a phone call, coffee or even a heart felt text whenever times got tough.  Our children are incredibly lucky to have had such an amazing woman in their lives. She loved them, and they adored their grandma.

 

We were incredibly blessed to have had someone like Mum in our lives. She an aura about her that made her honest, trust worthy, hard working and a just a good genuine person in a world where good genuine people are getting harder and harder to come by.

 

We love you Mum, and we'll miss you. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts. For everything.

 

 

 

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room,
Why cry for a soul set free!
Miss me a little - but not for long
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me, but let me go.
For this journey that we all must take
And each must go alone;
It's all a part of the Master's plan
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go to the friends we know,
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.
Miss me, but let me go

Struggling

Dear Mum.

Hi Mum. Well it's been a month.

We had your funeral. It was nice. It was in the hall, same as Dad. The Pateroa ladies catered, the same as Dad, and we drank tea and put on a brave face. Just like Dad.

Richard was there Mum, did you see him? He made it. He was there with us and it meant the world to me to have him there.

God Mum it was terrible. It just wasn't meant to be like that. Not yet. Not so suddenly.

So life goes on doesn't it? Most days I'm doing pretty good. I can keep a brave face and function as a normal human being.

Other days I miss you so much it takes my breath away.

I had a moment. It was just before 5am on an idle Tuesday and we were being ambulance'd into town after Cam had an asthma attack, as as we pulled into the hospital I could almost see you sitting under the Foyer on the Fredrick Street side, as real and solid as anything. Just like when you were waiting to be picked up the day I sprung you out of hospital. It almost took my breath away with how strongly the memory made you seem. Right there in the half light. I burst into tears, and the Prue from St Johns rubbed my back and tried to reassure me that Cam would be OK.

She must have thought I was crazy.

Maybe I am.

It's all just such a mess.

Why did you die? What happened? could it have been prevented? Should I have got you into Ranfurly earlier? Should I have abandoned Ranfurly entirely and taken you straight to Dunedin? Why didn't anyone listen to me when I told them you weren't safe at home? Why didn't anyone help us?

Or did Dad just come and pick you up?

Was it just time?

I hope it didn't hurt Mum. I really hope you weren't frightened. I wish me and Jen had got there on time.

Your headstones arriving soon. It's all laid out and designed and ready to be cut. I hope you like it.

It's very hard to do someone justice on a slab of granite.

I've picked your ashes up too. I didn't want to leave them at Hopes, but I didn't know what else to do with them - so you're in the hot water cupboard hehe. (Sorry - I really didn't know where to put them!)

So your house sits empty, and slowly things are being divided up and packed away.

I'm sorry Mum. I'm so sorry.

Love Cath

xoxox

The Details

Mum's funeral will be at the Patearoa Hall, at 11:30 am on Friday the 4th of January.

The celebrant will read this poem:

We Only Wanted You

They say memories are golden
well maybe that is true.
We never wanted memories,
We only wanted you.
A million times we needed you,
a million times we’ve cried.
If love alone could have saved you
you never would have died.
In life we loved you dearly,
In death we love you still.
In our hearts you hold a place
no one can ever fill.
If tears could build a stairway
and heartache make a lane,
We’d walk the path to heaven
to bring you back again.
Our family chain is broken,
and nothing seems the same.
But as God calls us one by one,
the chain will link again.

 

The four of us will read this poem:

 

When I come to the end of the road
And the sun has set for me,
I want no rites in a gloom-filled room,
Why cry for a soul set free!
Miss me a little - but not for long
And not with your head bowed low.
Remember the love that we once shared,
Miss me, but let me go.
For this journey that we all must take
And each must go alone;
It's all a part of the Master's plan
A step on the road to home.
When you are lonely and sick at heart
Go to the friends we know,
And bury your sorrows in doing good deeds.
Miss me, but let me go.

 

I will wear a black and white dress and velvet heels.

 

I have had my nails done as a secial treat, just for Mum's big day.

 

My kids will be in their funeral best.

 

Patsy Rigger will play.

 

We will carry her out in a white coffin, and Hope and Son's will take her away.

 

And nothing will ever be the same again.

 

God Mum I'll miss you.

My Beautiful Mum

 

 

Rest in Peace Mum

15 April 1947 - 27 December 2012

 

Far too young.

 

 

Vacuum

Dear Mum and Dad,

Wow, weird to be writing to both of you.

Well the funeral preps almost done. God it just feels to be dragging and dragging and dragging on.

We're doing OK I think. Yup, there's been plenty of tears. Plenty. We've dispatched the Mike's with the kids and us three girls are hovering around in a state of stupor.

There seems to be a rip in the time/space continuum. We get up, smoke, coffee, smoke, coffee and then suddenly it's tea time. Nothing seems to be getting done, nothing seems to be getting achieved but with minimal effort we've done Mum's eulogy, funeral sheet, readings and clothes organised.

I hope they do you justice Mum, I really do. How do you sum up your Mum? How can words ever do it justice?

It's hard. So bloody hard. I feel too young to be an orphan. It's too soon after losing dad.

I miss you both terribly.

Love Cath
xoxox