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 |   Another plate full of the meat and vegetables of my life. |
| I am pretty certain this will be the last and possibly longest entry in this particular book. Little did I know when I started it what a tumultuous journey lay ahead. It seems fitting to post it on Valentine's Day, my first alone. I suspect I will start a new one in time even though there are few of my WDC friends left here. I'm pondering a suitable title for it. The funeral is now over and was fitting, mainly due to family and friends. My faith and trust in businesses to do things right becomes less and less. I am posting the eulogy I wrote for my husband David below. Many of you know I am not a hypocrite and did not have the perfect marriage. People who know me understand the messages inside this piece and it was read beautifully by a family friend. Thank you to all of you who have supported me through the last eleven years of blogging, particularly through this very difficult time. THANK YOU Thank you for the early years of chats in the staffroom at Kingsway School. Our relationship started shyly and I still remember our first date. In truth I think I was too timid to be a teacher, but you were confident and tough and I suspect staff as well as children were a little scared of your booming voice and forceful presence. You earned their respect. Many will remember you from this time. Thank you for your help with my Netball teams in that era. You were always prepared to transport, advise and assist with my coaching and organisation. Your ears were prepared to listen to every match report in the evenings as I dissected verbally what went right or wrong. It seemed very important at the time and I’m sure you and your little Louise often wished I’d ‘Give it a rest.’ An expression you frequently used through the years. Thank you for being the strong and determined man you were, taking on the task of raising your daughter. I was not mature enough to understand the needs or heart string pulls between parent and child at that time. I hope you and Louise forgive me for finding the role of step parent difficult. As I matured I learned to accept and understand more and now I’m more mature than I want to be Louise and her family are very important to me. I love her family, her twins and her menagerie dearly. They will miss you every day of their lives. Thank you for working so hard and your utter determination in everything. This enabled you to train further so you could take on the difficult role of teaching children with special needs at Bracken Hill School. Becoming the Headteacher made us all very proud and ensured our lives were secure. I’m not sure how many know of all the times you fretted and worried over problems and disputes at school, but you were always intent to resolve situations . I know Bracken Hill held a special place in your heart. Ex pupils and staff still stopped you in the street and came to visit long after you retired. You earned their respect. Many of you will remember this phase. Thank you for providing me with our first home which you adjusted and laboured over to accommodate my needs. It wasn’t ideally situated for someone like me who didn’t drive, but it gave me some exercise mountaineering up Church Hill. Thank you for moving to a more suitable property, though I had my suspicions you didn’t really want to. Over the years we learned to love our home and remained there to this day. Thank you for allowing me to make it colourful and cheerful, admiring John’s lovely paintings and making all my teddy bears and ducks welcome. It’s sad the area around us has deteriorated, but I think our earlier lives there with wonderful neighbours were some of the happiest of my life. Thank you for giving me my precious son, who has matured into a gentle giant with a career and family to be proud of. His children will carry on the Cooper name and it breaks our hearts knowing how much you loved your family and how we will miss you. There couldn’t be a more dedicated husband, father and grandfather. Family was so important to you. Thank you for all you did for your own Mum, for always being there to help with my own parents through some extremely difficult times, for loving my sister and putting up with our many late night ramblings and raucous laughter. Thank you for your passion and contribution to sport. Mine was never as strong and I confess the hours of football, cricket, golf and snooker on television could be irritating. But then you were tolerant enough to grit your teeth through Strictly, skating, gymnastics and swimming which were more to my liking, though the remote stayed firmly in your hand. We had many happy times in earlier years ten pin bowling and playing badminton. We shared a love of watching tennis and I thank you for taking on all the chores during Wimbledon fortnight when I lived in a chair, oblivious to the world. Thank you for the times we visited the courts to watch live matches and for arranging for us to experience baseball and American football in the USA even if we didn’t understand it and I was rigid with fear at the height of the stadiums. Our times at Newstead Abbey where you introduced Paul to cricket and helped coach many youngsters were really special. I may not have been enamoured by the sound of leather on willow, but I loved the surroundings, walking our dog in the beautiful grounds and of course we made many friends there. Sadly many very unfortunate ailments curtailed your ability to play much sport, but you battled on determined to return to golf whenever possible. Many of you will know David through sport. Thank you for all the memorable holidays we shared, some quite disastrous and some truly wonderful. Our early breaks in England with children and dogs, our love of the Isle of Wight and later abroad when we were child and pet free. We loved the same places and it seems fitting our last holiday would be in Kos with Paul and the children. Thank you for taking me to America four times, even though initially you didn’t want to. We both came to love it, though we know you endured the trips on the Queen Mary for my sake. It didn’t move fast enough for you; you always were a bit of a boy racer. Thank you for all your research which helped me find my family and my roots in the States. I could never have achieved that alone and will always be truly grateful. Thank you for all you did in the home. I know many women would be envious of a man who is prepared to deal with laundry, cooking, washing pots and hoovering, though you drew the line at flicking a duster and I confess sometimes I’d rather you’d have gone to the pub. But you seemed to enjoy domestics. I’m sorry I still haven’t done the ironing. Thank you for being my chauffeur and a taxi for the family. You were always willing to take me anywhere I wanted (apart from Scotland.) You’d drive miles to take me to the starts of walks or reunions, to my sister’s, to pick up myself and friends then drive them home after day’s out and to help me indulge in my weird geocaching obsession. I know helping transport the grandchildren over the last few years was one of the things that kept you going no matter what pain you were in. Thank you for showing me your softer side. For sharing my love of nature, gardening, birds and animals and taking on all the waifs and strays I brought home. Thank you for trapping all those insects and putting them outside. You’d forget to post a letter after I’d asked and frequently brought home two items from the shops when I’d ordered three, but you never forgot a birthday or an anniversary. It’s a rare man who had already bought a Valentine card in January which I will treasure even though it’s unsigned. Few people saw your sensitive, creative, artistic side which is a shame. I think you were a little deaf or had selective hearing yet how many women can say they only had to softly hint at something they’d like and there it would be next birthday, anniversary or Christmas? Thank you for learning to like people more. You were a private man with simple pleasures, a family man, a home bird and happy in your own company. But over time you accepted many of my friends and I’m proud of those crazy parties we used to have at home. It may have taken us days to clear up and recover from hangovers, but some of the memories will be a comfort and bring smiles to many faces. Thank you for supporting my hobbies. For admiring my writing, never complaining about the clack of knitting needles, allowing me to spend hours with my nose in a book or on the computer, working on crafts or simply faffing as I call it. I couldn’t see the fascination in your obsession for making model railway engines, but admired your patience and skills. I will make sure some are kept in the family and the rest go to good homes. Thank you for enjoying some of my music and tolerating the rest and for the many live concerts and shows we shared together. Thank you for being brave and never allowing the very severe infections and operations you endured destroy your strong will. We will never know why life flung all those health problems and hospital confinements at you, but I know a lesser person wouldn’t have endured it all as stoically as yourself. Of course none of us were prepared to lose you so suddenly and unexpectedly, but it is not our place to question why. Thank you for loving me maybe more than you should. For putting up with my mood swings, my morning grumps and my petty complaints about your untidiness and man piles. Neat freaks like me find it hard to understand hoarders, but you have made sure we’ll be kept busy for a long time to come. Thank you for always thinking I was beautiful even when I looked like a train wreck. Vanity was never a trait of yours, but you admired my efforts to fight the ravages of time, both of us knowing failure is inevitable. So many people will miss you and you will leave a huge hole in our family. We pray you will send us some of your own strength to cope. I cannot provide them with all the practical help and useful things you did or your sage advice. I said to our son all I can do now is hopefully give them some financial assistance. ‘And Love,’ he replied. For love is all we have, Precious, fragile and enduring. Whoever we are, whatever we are, wherever we are, only love can help us through this life and beyond. |
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