Eulogy for June by husband Peter

We are here today to celebrate the life of my wife June May, who died peacefully on Wednesday the 30^th April 2008.

That morning, from 7.00am to 9.00am, I spent a quiet two hours with June, after our daughter Judith, who had nursed June with great care and devotion for several weeks, had made her mother comfortable, and then left us alone, to say our goodbyes.

I was looking at a very sick and frail little old lady, close to eighty years of age.

My mind immediately recalled the lovely, vivacious young woman that I had met in 1947, and married in 1952, sixty one years ago.

All sorts of thoughts and memories cascaded through my mind, ever more of them, ever more quickly, like melting snow from a mountain.

The space of sixty one years, in two hours, by this time I was quite distressed by what I saw, and I asked why? Why this deterioration? Why all this wear and tear? Is it fair?

And then I thought, what about me? At 84 years of age I cannot do much and I do not reflect very well in a mirror. I cannot lift things. I can no longer use a shovel or a spade. But at 84, most people are in a similar state, and I happen to be particularly lucky.

So, what is the problem? The answer is that there is no problem. This situation is absolutely normal. The design of the human species is, on average, three score years and ten, or seventy years, give or take a few.

By 11.45am June’s breathing was poor, and at 12.10pm, I was sitting alone with her, as she slipped quietly away.

She was not afraid to die.

I liken the process to the unpacking of a parcel. The contents of the parcel are taken out and, and the wrappings, which have done their job are discarded. The contents of the parcel are not worn out, or discarded, they carry on, perhaps we know them as the spirit, or the soul, and they carry on to complete the mission for which they are destined, perhaps as memory?

When I realised that man’s purpose in life was limited to some seventy years each, I could see that one must examine those seventy years of any one individual. In June’s case, there is an abundance of information, with regard to her activities during that span of years.

Firstly she was a person, a person of great integrity and compassion. This enabled her to be a first class wife, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother. She loved children, she was very artistic and loved pottery, at which she was very proficient.

Then she equally loved spinning and weaving. When her disabilities prevented that, she returned to one of her earlier loves, embroidery, even this she could no longer do.

She loved swimming, cooking, gardening. She loved nature, friends, history, and she loved being - June - .

During my quiet two hours with June, just before she died, it became clear to me that June’s reason for being on this earth, had been fulfilled, and it had quite properly taken eighty years, although why she had to suffer so much in order to exit this world is not understood.

What is understood is that she did contribute her full measure to the human race.

I am particularly proud, because so many many people have commented, “she was such a lovely person”, and she was.

She is now at peace.