Hello! I know I have been a bit quiet over here, of late.
But ya know, Dad passed away and even though we all expected it, it’s really taken the wind out of my usually hoisted main sail.

(Here’s a little pic circa 1974, of us all on Constantine Bay, in our beloved Cornwall)
I do have a list of blog posts that I am excited to write, but somehow, nothing feels appropriate just yet.
So, Dad’s funeral is this week. He passed away on December 28th. I don’t recommend you pass away over the Christmas hols…it appeared there was somewhat of a queue…if you get my drift.
Looking on the bright side though, it means that we have had time to really plan his funeral well, and add a few lovely personal touches to the Order of Service (I must stop calling it a ‘programme’)
And it has given me a whole heap of time to write a eulogy that I hope he would be proud of.
Writing a eulogy is a really hard job, isn’t it. I feel the responsibility to him, for getting it right, and to our family and friends, for remembering him properly, and massively to myself for not messing it up on the day. I know everyone will be kind about it, but I REALLY don’t want to sob my way through it. Anyway, it ruins your makeup, sobbing.
I decided, that I owe it to everyone there, to read it properly, clearly, and even look up and smile if I can & I have a cunning plan or two. I need glasses for reading but can’t see a thing if I look up while wearing them. So I’ll make sure I wear them to see the words clearly, and the congregation will be just a blur.
I have concocted a few other strategies too. You see in another life, I’d have been a jet set air stewardess for Virgin Atlantic (based on the shoes, obvs) and as cabin crew, it’s your job to remain calm and unflustered even if you don’t feel it, right? I keep a very beady eye on the stewardesses – if they are calm, I am too. If they were to show even so much as a hint of a fluster, that’s it! I am checking for the nearest exit (because obviously I wasn’t paying attention and was engrossed in the in-flight mag when we were being shown that stuff…. I mean, I NEED Elizabeth Arden’s 8 hour cream, the MOMENT we take off. Even if the smell is somewhat disappointing and it goes on like axle grease. The fact is, I only need it, because the magazine has already warned me that by the time we land we shall all be dried up old husks with out it. OMG you’re right! I hope there’s not a shortage. It’s now an emergency…etc etc… You see.) Anyway, back to my eulogy..
So I am going to be the air stewardess, and keep calm and unflustered. My passengers might be nervous, but I am going to get them down, safely. We won’t even need any emergency tubes of 8 Hour Cream.
Also, now it’s written, I am reading it over and over and over, to try to desensitize myself to the bits my voice catch on. And write myself silly words in the margin to get myself over the hump. I think I am getting there.
Writing it drew a blank for a while. Dad had Parkinson’s dementia with Lewy Body Syndrome. And had been in a care home for 5 years. He was so lost to us and had been, for so long, that I didn’t know where to start.
I found that by searching back to when we were young, really helped. And even further back than that. I asked friends and family about their memories, and Mum had some fab snippets sent to her in some of the condolence cards. Bit by bit, Dad started to come back to me, and suddenly I had more than enough to write about. It was a very healing thing to do, which came as a surprise!
Also, it definitely helped to have a little google of some famous ones ( Charles Spencer at Diana’s funeral – gets me every time And his voice was a bit ragged with emotion, and I suspect, nerves, but he did it! We all understood every word, loud and clear)
I gave Gav’s Dad’s eulogy last summer, and have decided that as terrifying as it was, and no matter how hard it hurt to write, being asked to do it was an honour. And it’s good for you! (not least because you’re not dead) (FYI I got through it, without crying, everyone clapped, {which was weird, and nice in equal measure – clapping in church? are you allowed to do that?} and then I saw my Mum and promptly burst in to tears… hashtag last minute fail)
I had practiced it over and over and over again, until every emotion I could possibly feel, had been felt. Every little trap had been noted, and even the tiniest word, the tiniest most unassuming word or sentence was unpicked and checked for bombs. Then I could concentrate on reading it with the feeling it deserved. Nothing worse than a monotone. Except a sobbing monotone, maybe.
I think laughter is also important. We all know why we are there, and it’s the saddest thing in the world. Nothing anyone can do or say can make it better. But to allow laughter, is also allowing someone to make a noise. One that perhaps can’t stay strangled in a throat for too much longer. So laugh or cry, I want to allow everyone a time to make any noise they want. And my Dad would heartily approve of laughter.
I read an article online and I quote ‘In any good eulogy, there are moments of panic. Silences, laughter in the wrong places. Moments when the speaker gets choked up…these moments are why you learn to pause’
I know I have a couple of moments of panic in there, but trust me, if you are coming, I will get you down safely. Light and shade. Lots of light. And a few pauses. Don’t worry about the pauses, they are strategically placed and I will be turning the page and trying to keep steady at that point. Keeping our little world in that moment, in that church, firmly on its axis.
I have printed the whole thing off, a new page where I need a pause. Even the spelling and grammar is laid out to make it easy for me. (explanation as such – I find the word ‘tradgedy’ really hard to say (don’t laugh) so I have spelled it out in capitals TRA JED EE. see? makes perfect sense to me haha)
If anyone wants to read his eulogy I don’t mind posting it. There’s a lovely passage at the end which is a sort of Pooh Bear mash up of lots of quotes and part of a story I found on Pinterest. The Vicar has asked for it so he can pass it on to others, so I am more than happy to share it if anyone is interested. Pooh Bear knew alot about alot didn’t he.
So- if you have to write one for someone you love, I hope I might have given you a few pointers. And I know it doesn’t really matter if I cry, it’s just that I’d rather not. So don’t be thinking you can’t cry. You can.
I think my next post will be outfit related, and I shall share the whole hoo haa of what to wear to such a sad occasion. Already I know it will be entitled ‘Every Cloud Has a Cashmere Lining’ …So you can kind of guess my mojo is returning.
Thanks for reading
Love