Case Study

A memory

A memory, a memorial

Julie, Emma, James and I are Christians - "Jesus is Lord" Christians. We are active in our church and we endeavour to live our lives from Christ's perspective and command - "Love Thy Neighbour". As I pondered Heather's death my faith kicked in but I couldn't understand the pain, and I wondered about her soul?

We had a small memorial service for Heather at our church. How often we have been in that church to say goodbye to someone else, but not one of mine! There was just the Minister, John, a lovely Tongan man, and us – my children and their mums. I planned what would be presented and who would say what. All of us were there, including the Mums of my babies.

We read Psalms and Heather's poetry and prayed and smiled and cried - the normal, comforting things to do at such a time, so normal.

But this was not comfortingly normal, because my sister was dead.

The service was very personal. It reflected how we might worship on a Sunday or at a funeral. A funeral - my word...no body, no casket, no one else but us, and no Heather.

John prayed and read from Mathew:

Then Jesus said, 'Come to me all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and let me teach you, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke fits perfectly and my burden is light.' (Matthew 11: 28 - 30)

I thought we should think again about Heather, like we did at home just a short 48 hours ago. We passed around some photos of her. There were not many. It was like we had to share these things because - well, there was no formal 'order of service' which would normally be emblazoned with such photos. This was the beginning of the eulogy. So Heather - so abnormal!


Meagan read Heather's poem, Hallelujah, how I love the sun. (One day I am going to set that for voice and some gathering of instruments. One day when the time is right.)

James read the wonderful words of comfort from Psalm 40:

I waited patiently for the Lord to help me, and He turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along… (Psalm 40: 1 – 3, 11 – 12, 17)

I read some of Heather's poems about Mum.

Fifteen years have past
since last we shared
her birthday together.

I read Psalm 23, she wanted me to read
before theatre would incise the disease
too late to salvage a life...
but time enough.

It is well to remember her.
To have known the privilege of hugs,
songs and laughs together.
Eternal tea and biscuits shared
to wash the wisdom down with.
Wisdom which has not evaporated
with time passed.
In fact her example,
her fears and imbalances teach
as profoundly as her love.

(I will set some of these too – one day)

The tears were running down our faces – I ached to help my babies and their mums to cope – useless man!

Emma read The Lord is my Shepherd - Psalm 23. Just as her aunt read for her grandmother so Emma read for Heather. Again she wept, not knowing why but just bathed in the shared agony of heart.

Denise read out the hymn, It is well with my soul, my Mum's – Heather's Mum's – favourite hymn. "When peace like a river attendeth my soul…"How often I had sung those words and conducted settings of that melody; now the angst and peace mixed and massed in my heart and mind. "When peace…" indeed, when peace.

Going Home is a poem written by Heather about her journey to England. It has many illusions to going home eternally. Rebecca was very strong reading it.

Then Luke read the part of Philippians he had read to me one time when he was in Detox – "Don't worry about anything, instead pray about everything…." (Philippians 4: 6 – 8)

John closed with blessings and prayers.

So sad!

Memorial services are for old people and the dead in war, not for Heather Jane – not for my little sister.