Tag: eulogy

Another year, another VB

Reading Time: 3 minutes

I’m drinking another bottle of VB (Victoria Bitter) beer. It’s a beer I’ve always disliked, though I drink it every year on this day.
It means another year has passed since my good mate JPS passed away. A guy that was full of life, and a fridge often filled with VB.

This day is devoted to reflecting on the guy, and the great times we had together. The fact I drink VB is to give him something up there to laugh at.

Just thinking back to the day of the funeral makes my eyes water remembering the tributes, including the touching words and song from Tim Freedman of The Whitlams fame – an Australian celebrity who became a good friend of John’s.
I had the daunting honour of giving the eulogy on behalf of his friends and colleagues.

For some reason I thought I’d post the eulogy here today for posterity, without some of the more personal points.

17 November 2006
“JPS began working working with us on the 20th of March, 1989 as a Cadet Draftsman in Engineering. Within a year he had his first stint as a Forms Analyst.
In 1997 he moved permanently into the Forms Unit; gaining promotion to Senior Forms Analyst in November 2002. It was there he remained until he left the department on 18th of May last year due to his deteriorating health.
John took great pride in the work he produced, and enjoyed mentoring young employees joining his area. His no-nonsense approach when dealing with superiors earned his team’s respect. But I think overall, John will be remembered in the work environment for the nonsense he would start at any opportunity.
I had a ball working in the same section as John. A lot of people did. His practical jokes and clowning around were memorable, to say the least. Sometimes the audience wasn’t in full support, but that usually didn’t stop him.
Virtually no one on our floor could get a haircut without getting the third degree from John; about the hairdresser being an apprentice, or hoping we kept the receipt for a refund.
It got to the point that if you got a haircut, you’d just automatically visit John to get the ribbing out of the way.
John loved writing, he really should have authored a book. His imagination and creativity shone through in the amazing email messages he sent to huge audiences almost every day to get a laugh. It was easy to forget that behind the great lengths and vivid descriptions of his hilarious yarns, was the fact that he was sitting there typing away at a snail’s pace with his only functioning hand. But it was well-known he would go to any lengths to get a laugh.

While I had a ball working in JP’s section, I felt that I failed when trying to do his job.
I couldn’t sustain nearly as many groups of people that called on JP at anytime for a laugh.
Only JP could find enough time for that many people. And only he had the jovial character to leave an impression with anyone he met; along with the charisma to draw such large crowds into his circle.
My feelings turned to frustration when I was John’s manager for a short period. I learned what a long line of managers before me had learned. He wasn’t meant to be managed.
It really made me question myself. Why was I trying to set the rules, when John was having so much fun breaking them. Yes, John was the perfect antidote for anyone taking themselves too seriously.
I doubt we will ever find someone who loved life as much as JPS.
Regardless of the difficulties he faced, John never resigned from the things he enjoyed:

  • the laid back, worry-free lifestyle,
  • joking around with mates,
  • downing a fine beer (or homebrew),
  • and always listening to good music.

We can all learn a lot from JP’s enduring love of life, and his ability to stay positive throughout all his challenges.
I’ve learned, a long life should never be taken for granted, but having happiness right to the end can be – when you have the right attitude.
John, thank you for letting my family and I into your life. Thank you from all of your colleagues that enjoyed your company, humour, kindness, and lasting friendship.
We are sad to lose a friend, and to see an end to the good times spent with you. But we’re relieved you will go through no more pain.
We lost John many years too early. But we can all make sure that the memories of good times remain.

”

Thank you JPS.
:’-)

Tribute – Stella May Brinkworth

Reading Time: 3 minutes

My Nanna passed away Friday 12/03/2010, at the ripe age of 91.

I was asked to say a few words from the grandkids – I did this nine years ago for Poppy also. The following is my tribute, based on various inputs requested and received via social networking – found yet another Facebook use.

It’s a real honour for me to be here today to join in the celebration of Nanna’s life, and to say some words on behalf of her 18 proud grandkids and great grandkids.

We loved the way when Nanna saw us she would always touch our faces with her two hands. We’ll miss her hugs. We’d get a hug and kiss every time we saw her. They were never the strongest hugs, and each year our arms were going further and further around her tiny frame, but her hugs always came from the heart. We were constantly reminded that big things do come in small packages.

We always loved staying at Shorncliffe on our school holidays, playing cards and board games. Being at Nanna and Poppy’s home felt like our home. Jetty Street breakfasts were legendary, with Nanna’s poached eggs out of an egg tray that fit on top of a steaming pan, served on toast and promite. And regardless of how miniscule the fish was that we brought back from fishing on the jetty, she’d always happily prepare it as a meal fit for a King.

We loved the heartfelt cards she’d write to us for birthdays, or any other special occasion which she’d never forget. She made it known she was very proud of us. She was intensely proud of all her family. In her words, we “came from good stock”.
And she really treasured her growing number of great grandkids. She loved holding them. Carrying them she looked truly happy, even though in her final few years a couple of those babies weighed almost a quarter of her own weight.

Nanna thought the grandkids were such cute babies too, but, for a few of us she’d usually follow-up by adding how massive our heads were.

She understood how busy everyone’s lives were and never expected people to go out of their way for her. Every time we visited her, she would emphasise how happy she was to see us, rather than how long it had been since she had seen us.

Nanna was prepared for anything. She always had a handkerchief, which she’d often moisten with her tongue to wash our faces.
And we never went hungry. My goodness!

She could always lay out a spread of food so swiftly, and would always offer seconds. You’d finish your meal, and then a skinny little arm would push another plate of food closer to you. No matter what our size, she always thought we needed more. To her we were all “growing kids”.
And she’d always serve herself last. She was born to be a mother, grandmother and great grandmother.

Nanna and Poppy were also two of the most reliable people we’ll ever know. At their dinner time you could set your watch to 6pm with absolute precision.

And in these modern times, it’s uncommon for kids to have both parents attend their school parades, fetes, award nights, graduations, sporting events and anything else. We always had our parents there, but we were also quite unique and blessed to often have both grandparents there.

In recent times, Queensland has suffered two of its worst droughts in history, and was subjected to severe water restrictions. Nanna’s take on this was almost nonchalant. To her it was no big deal. She had naturally adhered to Level 7 water restrictions for more than 80 years. Whenever we stayed at Shorncliffe, Nanna would wash us in a bath with the tide out. She was an expert at how to be thrifty and make do – two very good lessons for us to learn.

At her 90th birthday it was touching to see Nanna cry at the memory of Poppy. But she was still able to show how much she loved spending her time with us.

Nanna and Poppy’s love story will always inspire us. Long-lasting or eternal love is an amazing story. Poppy was the love of her life, and she’s missed him so much over the last nine years.
That love they had for each other has passed on through the family.

Although it’s sad she’s left us, we’re happy they’re together again.
Nanna and Poppy always danced so well. We assume they’re dancing together now.