It's A Sad Day - Part 3

Today, after four days of mourning her sudden death, we buried our mum. In a champagne coloured coffin with ornate designs, she lay there in her favourite red dress, peacefully asleep.

The church had nearly 100 people there to pay their last respects, some of whom I knew and some were friends from long ago that knew her. Like every funeral, the tears were aplenty, yet for some strange reason, I did not cry today. Sure, I could feel them coming, but somehow I remained strong. Maybe it was because I have cried so much over the last few days that there simply weren't any tears left. Or maybe, I am still in shock and hasn't dawned on me as yet what the full repurcusions are.

The morning was windy, but by the time we arrived at the Greek Orthodox Church, the sun was out and the wind had died down. I think no one could have wished for a better day than what we had today.

After the priest finished, I had the unenviable task of providing the Eulogy. Having written it on Sunday morning, I must have read it over a dozen times, and each time the tears came. My greatest concern was that I would not be able to complete it on the day. Even reading it out aloud to myself a couple of hours before the funeral brought tears.

Yet somehow I found the strength to read the Eulogy for my mum without crying. Yes, I felt myself getting all choked up on several occasions, my voice wavered, but somehow the strength remained in me to complete it. [below is the actual eulogy].

With the church service completed, we then buried my mum at Centennial Park Cemetery - one of the largest in our state. Next to her grave is a plot we have also purchased for our dad, for when his time comes.

In many ways, I am glad that the pole bearers were close friends. Their lighthearted attitude made it easier for me to focus on other things. With the Wake afterwards, the atmosphere of the 40 odd people present, was also lighthearted, filled with talks of my mum's life, her achievements and her struggles. Yes, some tears were also shed, but these were tears of not only of a loss but also of a sense of relief.

Finally, the day was over. For mum, her journey from birth to death is complete. For us who remain, a new chapter in life has begun, one where the most important person in our lives will no longer be physically there but will always be in our hearts and thoughts.

James

PS. Apologies in advance for this not being in my normal style of writing, but under the circumstances, I hope you understand.

The Eulogy

Angeliki was born in the small village of Agios Konstantinos, in Laconia on June 24th 1939. She was one of five daughters and a son to Eleni and Stavros Dimopoulos.

At the age of 19, she took the long and ardious voyage by sea to Australia and settled in Adelaide to be with her brother and sisters. In 1961 she married our dad Vasilios, and for the first few years, spent her life in country Victoria and South Australia, following the fruit picking seasons.

Between fruit seasons, she worked at Balfours, Marinos brothers and others. Life was never easy, especially in the late 60s when Dad and her youngest son Antonios lived in Coober Pedy trying to make their fortune, as mum and I lived in Adelaide.

Finally, in 1972, they moved up to Coober Pedy where she stayed for the next 20 years.

Its often said that the ones that God loves, always have the hardest life.

In 1974, after a very bad car accident, she spent nearly 6 months in hospital, with the doctors not expecting her to survive. Yet her courage and love for her family, pulled her through. Her spinal cord had popped out of the spin, and a wrong move could have severed it. Yet as if by miracle, a couple of years ago, it fell back into place.

As if this wasnt enough, she continued to have other health problems, and yet bravely she lived on, preferring to suffer in silence than to worry her family.

Her greatest love was her home, her garden and her family. Nothing made her happier than to see all of us happy. With her grandchildren around her, she found a reason to keep on going despite her problems.

You know, they say that a mother is closer to her children than any other person. Angeliki was more than that. We did not need to tell her how we were, how we felt or how bad the accident was. She seemed to have a psychic link with us, and knew in advance. Many a time she would call to ask "how bad was it" and "are you okay" even though we had not told her what had happened.

Today, we are here to bid her farewell one last time. Her journey through life has been filled with pain and sorrow, yet also with lots of love and fulfillment.

Today, we - the family - have decided to also make a small break with tradition.

On her journey to Heaven to be with her mother and father, we are giving her tokens to remember us by, until we too take the final journey and be with her.

A small album with photos of the family, so when she is in Heaven and sees us living our lives without her, she can open the album and touch us.

A rose and an orchid - her two favourite flowers, to remind her of her garden and home that gave her so much pleasure.

And finally, a coin. To pay the ferryman so that her journey to Heaven is a smooth and peaceful one.

Angeliki, take care. You are at peace now. We love you, we miss you but will always remember you.