Dads funeral was really lovely on Friday and we scattered his ashes yesterday, in a private family affair. Jan, Bron, Tony, Ally, Libby, Jon and I can now all say that we have thrown a fist full of glitter in the air, as we mixed dads remains with glitter. The sun was out, so the glitter sparkled, making it an occasion of joy. I am emotionally exhausted but looking forward to heading home and getting on with life! The Dixons have to thank and acknowledge my cousin Lesley and her daughter Rebecca Bruce. Thanks for being there for us. For those that missed it, heres my final farewell to dad (delivered on behalf of my sister and I): A final farewell Weve been overwhelmed by the love support of everyone. Thank you. Ive had 6 years to prepare for this, but standing here and sharing Dad with you is one of the most difficult tasks that Ive had to do in my life. There are so many memories between Bron and I, so picking just a few has been difficult. Bron, one of my earliest memories is dad taking you to ride ponies on our weekend visits. Did you know I was scared of horses, but he knew you loved it? There was a time that he put you first. And Bron tells me one of her earliest memories is of Dad ducking an egg thrown at him in the kitchen at Doncaster! For those who are newer friends I think the egg was thrown by Mum, not Bron! Another one of my early memories is of desperately wanting a Barbie for Christmas, when I was nine. I was so excited, as the box he gave me was the right shape and size. Alas, it wasnt to be, instead I unwrapped, a digital clock. Funny thing is, I was in the garage last week, and saw the exact same clock. Knowing dad, he probably bought two for one! I think dad would have excelled as a father, if wed been boys. Sorry dad, but Hawthorns colours are ugly and neither Bron nor I were patient enough for fishing. One person who did appreciate the finer art of fishing was our cousin Merv, and whether he realized it or not, dad got to be a father figure to Merv and we’re grateful for that. Dad introduced us to camping, and shared with us his love for nature and Australia. His partnership with Jan brought out the travel bug and while he and Jan enjoyed their travels together, in our youth, we enjoyed numerous trips dad, Jan, Nerida & Cameron. Yabbying on the Murray River, exploring Australia’s coastline and camping trips to places as diverse as the Grampians and Warrnambool are remembered through the thousands of photographs that Jan has slowly been passing over to each of us. We were never the Brady bunch, maybe more like a National Lampoons movie (I imagine a little bit comical – Dad and Jan trying to corral four very different kids) but weve all seen more of Australia than most kids of our era, and experienced activities such as kayaking, sailing and bushwalking. We can also proudly state that dad was the original Master Chef, way before it was trendy. For some reason, unknown to anyone, he learnt to cook Chinese food. He made the best fried rice and stir fry ever. My clan will definitely miss grandpas Chinese. For Victoria, the eldest grandchild, her association with dad will always be tied to his 4WD and sandwiches off the tailgate. Dad has given us some great memories and things to laugh about: · When he and Jan travelled around Australia, they had everything including the kitchen sink. More his doing than Jans without a doubt. · Although upstanding, he was also light fingered (the garage should have been dedicated to the herald). (Weve since been told its called Field testing). · And then there was time, he took me to me Grans grave, but really had no idea where it was, and later admitted that Id probably shed a tear over the wrong person! Weve heard all our life that Mums side of the family can talk, but on reflection, so could Dad. He could walk into a shop and come out with a friend. His friend ship with Barry Pearson, the butcher, was evidence of that. He didnt know it, but he taught us to be social (and maybe like beer!). Our childhood is splattered with memories of pool encounters at the Pearsons & the Merediths; milkshakes and Macca’s on Saturday afternoons at the butchers; and Dad and his spit - essential for any party in the late 70s and 80s. His quick wit was extraordinary, right to the end. Tony Meredith - thanks for sharing that last beer with dad. Ill treasure the memory forever. Dad had so many sides to him, like everyone. Friend, family man, cook, explorer, grump. Like many of his generation, he struggled to express his love to family, but he was always there. Constant. And he was constant in his ways. We could always be sure of him. I admire dad and what he achieved in his life. He told me once that he thought he was lucky. But I dont think his life was all about luck, it was about being steady, wise and true. He led a good life with Jan, he loved traveling with her and they made many memories together, he had/has friendships that lasted his lifetime; and the social ease with which he was able to make new friends was awesome. Something I to aspire to do and be. Bron and I are both grateful he was released from his long illness at home beside Jan. Over the last six years he was amazing, but clearly it was time, and we are now truly grateful he is no longer imprisoned in a body wracked by illness. Dads final gift to us was time. To reconnect with Melbourne, family and friends, to be able to spend time with him and Jan through his illness and to be part of his final days, was precious. To close, Im taking liberty with a lyric from a Waifs song: Shining in our life you’re our eternal sun, We’d like to thank you now for shaping what weve become.
Posted on: Sun, 30 Mar 2014 03:36:58 +0000
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