Last Friday, as has been my habit in recent weeks, I told the wholesaler there'd be no beech picked for afternoon pick up. I've been on the beech for five weeks since we moved on November 6. It's physically demanding work, as any sort of work above your head is. At my advancing age I figure four days of it in a row (last week it was five as I started on Sunday to satisfy a big order for Monday) is enough. So I have used Friday to catch up on other things easier on the body.
Like having my van serviced as I did last week. As it happened, I also chose to attend a funeral service Friday afternoon, that of John Willington, at Bull's in Pakenham at 2pm. Three years ago I posted about John, before Christmas, after I visited him having learned he had been diagnosed with inoperable pancreatic cancer and given a prognosis of weeks only to live.
I saw the notice in the obituaries on Tuesday when I read the paper in the bath. Lib was working so I couldn't use her car but Gord said I could use his, and he'd come to the funeral as he knew and liked John also. We left half after midday to have lunch at Nando's and do our Friday shopping early at Coles Pakenham.
We were still early for the service and while most people were outside waiting I went into the chapel and sat quietly some rows back from the front, with only a handful of other people, John's wife and relatives, sitting in the front row. On the way in I was given a picture card with John's smiling face on the front and some writing on the back acknowledging and thanking those attending and others for their thoughts. The big screen at the front had a slide of John leaning on a post in his front yard with his loved Land Rover behind him. Soft music was playing. I felt like crying, and at that moment I felt huge affection for John and admiration for the friendship and respect he had shown my family over nearly forty years. And his positive attitude and accepting of his situation over the last three years.
People filtered in and the chapel filled. The slide show started, mapping John's life from young man through all his milestones and family activities. Songs were played while the slide show progressed, 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow' by that male singer with the gentle voice, and 'What a Wonderful World'. I could not think of more appropriate songs. The urge I had to cry passed when the service got underway, probably as I was focused on hearing of John's life from when his family migrated from England in 1952 when he was six years old and he grew up in Carrum Downs. He took an electrician apprenticeship after secondary school in Frankston and was lucky to survive an electrical explosion in those years which caused a lengthy hospital stay and recuperation. He married Raelene and moved to Emerald mid 1970's and started his own business early eighties aged 37.
After the service it was nice to catch up with some old Emeraldites, particularly my old mate Will Marshall. Will has been off the grog for 12 months since he had a mild stroke, so we could compare notes as I've been AF for over 11 months now. We parted saying we'd catch up over a cup of tea soon. He and Freda live in Wonthaggi on acres with beef cattle in retirement.
Monday morning now, have rigged up a sunshade over Gord's window as it gets all the morning sun and heats his room alarmingly in hot weather which is forecast.
Off to pick beech now. Digging deep to fire up for a big week, in the build up to...the dreaded Christmas.
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