Elsie Morrison lived a remarkable 98 years.
Even though an elder may be expected to die, and even when a death comes at the end of a long and well-lived life, it can still come as a shock to family and close friends. We can know that someone is old, that their life is drawing to a close, and still feel surprised when the moment actually comes.
And grief at the end of a long life is rarely just one thing. It can sit alongside gratitude for all the years that were shared, relief that someone we love is no longer struggling, sadness at their absence, and maybe even a real sense that their time to leave had come.
There may be memories that bring laughter, stories that will be told again and again, things that will be missed deeply, and possibly things that will not be missed at all. All of these feelings can belong together.
For Elsie’s family this was true. To start the ceremony I wrote, ‘When one of the older generation in a family dies, it can feel unfamiliar, as they’ve always been there. As Kath reflected when we met last week, “Somehow you forget they’re not immortal.” When someone has been part of your life for so long, it’s hard to imagine the world without them. There is that instinct to pick up the phone, to call in for a cup of tea, or to check in on your mummo, before remembering that things have changed. Today is a time to mourn and remember, to give thanks for Elsie’s long life, and to honour your grief and missing her, and express gratitude for the love and care she shared with those around her.’
And the closing Words of Remembrance
“Elsie will be remembered as a loving wife of Hugh for nearly four decades. She was a caring and kind Mummo and Great Mummo. She was also a devoted daughter, sister, aunty, cousin, neighbour and friend.
Elsie valued hard work, loyalty and service. She simply got on with what needed to be done, caring for those she loved and contributing to her community. Elsie was stoic and could be stubborn at times. Her strength was found in her resilience, in carrying on after loss, in adapting to change, in maintaining independence for as long as she could, and continuing to find purpose in each new day by making herself useful.
Elsie’s life reminds us that love is often expressed in the simplest ways: giving your time, lending a hand, sharing a conversation, and being there when someone needs you. You’ll miss her quirky ways, her small huhmmm cough, and the tap of the cup on the corner of the table, the morning tea bun, and hearing her familiar expressions: “Bloomn!” and that unmistakable, “Abbb… sooo… luuutely.”
Today we give thanks for a life that was long and well lived, and for the legacy she leaves in the hearts of you all, her dearest family and friends.
May she rest in peace.”
