Lately, in the eulogies I have been called upon to write there has been an ongoing ‘thread’of
early sadness with stories of mothers dying when children were tiny. I have just notice that I begin this part of the ‘story’ with the words “tragically”or “sadly”. The reason is obvious, I suppose. Here are three excerpts from eulogies of men born in the 1930s. (Makes us realise how times have changed and perhaps how lucky we are.)
1. Tragically, John’s mother died shortly after his birth and, with no other option, his father handed
him to foster care. A wonderful and loving family, Norman and Elsie Byron, with two children of their own, took over John as their foster child.
2. Sadly, when Bob was not much more than five or six years old, his mother died as a result of
contracting Tuberculosis. Not long afterwards, Bob’s father, who had been unwell from after-effects of poisonous gas encountered during the war, was killed in an accidental fall. As the children’s only grandmother had died a couple of years earlier, it was left to Auntie Marg to care for and bring up the seven children.
3. Sadly, Max’s mother died when Max was a tiny one-week-old baby. He was brought up by an aunt and only ever saw his father on weekends. (There were other children in his aunt’s family, but they were teenagers, so it must have been a lonely life for little Max).
These eulogies have been written in the last two weeks.They are stories from the 1930s - and now, in 2013, we almost never hear such tragic tales. What a blessing!
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I choose to comment on social issues and write creatively on a variety of subjects - for a variety of audiences.