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Celebrating a Life

Once again I find myself indulging in some therapeutic writing. I wanted to write about Kevin’s funeral/celebration of life, with an explanation of why we chose the music, poetry, flowers and so on to make it about him.

We decided very quickly that Kevin’s beloved Labrador, Buddy would have to attend the funeral. Once again Kevin Foster, our funeral director organised the event for us with his usual calm efficiency and patience, as he had for Mum’s funeral a few weeks ago and he was totally amenable to that, even offering to walk with Buddy at the head of the cortege. We opted to keep Buddy in the car with us.

Kevin was not a religious man, so we opted for a humanist service at our new local crematorium at Bockenfield. We used the crematorium’s facility to livestream the service, as we had done with my Mum’s funeral. This has enabled many of our family and friends to take part who were unable to travel here because of distance, health or other committments. Our celebrant was Pauline Fellows, who visited us to plan the service. She was such a kind, gentle lady and very easy to work with.

We chose three pieces of music, all by bands we had seen perform. As we arrived. by Runrig played Gabriel’s Sword. The band originate in the Scottish Islands, where we spent many happy holidays and on our Scottish trips, Runrig’s music would always be playing in the car. Immediately after I read the eulogy, we listened the the very beautiful Everglow by Coldplay, another favourite band. All four of us went to see them once with friends. During this, a slide show of photographs of Kevin played. Finally we heard Beautiful Day by U2. We saw them many times and Kevin once introduced them live on stage, back in the day we were on the students’ Entertainment Committee at Sheffield University. They were supporting John Otway and Wild Willy Barrett at the time (this was a long time ago!)

Pauline had asked if we wanted to include a poem. It just happened that I’d bought a book of poetry for Kevin at Christmas. We had adopted the Icelandic tradition of  Yulebokkflod a few years back, and gave each other a book on Christmas Eve. Earlier last year we had been visiting the Sill visitor centre at Twice Brewed, near Hadrian’s Wall, where there had been an exhibition about a new book, The Lost Spells, by Robert Macfarlane and Jackie Morris. It showed some of the beautiful illustrations alongside extracts from the poems which are all about the natural world, and with recordings in the background, featuring birdsong. It was stunning and I bought the book to give to Kevin.

The poem I chose was Gorse. This spiny yellow shrub is a common feature of our local landscape here in North Northumberland, where it is known as Whin and gives its name to the Whin Sill, a huge outcrop of volcanic rock on the coast. The verses describe how though gorse creates a spiky impenetrable barrier it also provides shelter for the creatures that nest and seek refuge within it its thickets. Kevin was like this too. He could be a bit spiky, but truly cared for the rest of us.

Gorse

Good luck trying to force your way through 

Gorse! Better setting out across

a field of spears, a lake of pikes, a sky of

hawks, a hundred winters;

better getting dealt a thousand scratches

by a million splinters!

Out of crags and hedges, cliffs and ledges,

Gorse jags, spikes, crackles: raises

hackles, speaks sharply: Keep Out! Stay

Back! Get Off My Land!

Room is made by Gorse, though – space is

braced for redstart, rabbit,

wheatear, plover, quiet life is harboured in 

its criss-cross places.

See into Gorse; get past its guard and pick

a path towards its well-defended 

heart, the secrets kept within its limits.

Each of us is partly made of Gorse, of

course: prickly, cussed hard the parse 

and tough to handle, all helter-skelter

points and angles – but only ever really 

seeking love and giving shelter.

It’s a beautiful poem.

The flowers were by Polly’s Petals. Polly creates the most stunning naturalistic arrangements including wild flowers and foliage.

She created something beautiful to reflect the countryside that Kevin loved so much. It included bluebells, forget-me-nots, cherry blossom , rhododendron and wild foliage along with cream narcissus and lizzianthus.

There were also a few spikes of bright yellow gorse flowers to reflect our local landscape and the poem we chose.

Polly also added some pheasant feathers to continue the countryside theme.

The spray was made up in three sections, so Kevin’s sister, our daughter and I could each take part of it home.

Kevin loved following our local hunt, the Percy hounds, so at the end of the service, one of the hunt staff, Will, blew the hunting horn, sounding the long continuous note that is used to signal the end of a day’s hunting: Blowing for Home. Right on cue, Buddy, who had lain quietly all the way through, pricked up his ears and barked, just as he would if he heard the horn when he was out with Kevin on a hunting day.

Afterwards we went to one of Kevin’s favourite places, Rigg and Furrow – his favourite bar and the home of his favourite beer, Run Hop Run. We had spent many an hour over many a drink here in the brewery tap of this farm-based brewery, always loving the relaxed, fun atmosphere and the warm welcome. There was absolutely no other place we could have gone for the post-funeral reception, and when we asked they said it would be an honour to host it.

Pippa, who runs the venue, recommended our caterer, Kooked North. Laura created the most spectacular grazing board of cheese, charcuterie, pate, breads, crackers, olives, pickles, dips, nuts and fruit.

Kevin was an excellent cook and loved good food. He enjoyed trying locally made produce, so it was lovely to see some of our favourite Doddington’s cheeses being served.

There were also some tasty sweet and savoury baked treats, including some delicious sausage rolls, with either black pudding or pork and apple.

As those present shared their memories of Kevin over a drink and some food, we played some of his favourite music and ran a slideshow of photos.

We were overwhelmed by the turnout, which included people from so many different parts of Kevin’s life, some of whom had travelled a long distance to be there. He would have been really touched that so many came.

I’m so grateful to all that contributed to make the day such a perfect reflection of who Kevin was.

Author:

I live in Northumberland, within sight of the sea and spend my time knitting, crocheting, sewing and trying my hand at different crafts. There's usually a story to share about the things I make.

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