We gave Jim a send off at the Blockhouse Bay Community Centre at 1 pm. Tuesday 12th Feb. There were about 130 people there and most agreed that Jim was a rebel with many good causes.
I have a feeling that some were there to make sure he was, indeed, on his way so that they could begin to have things their way. Some of the smarter ones said that, although they argued on many occasions, Jim proved to be correct most of the time.
We had so many people to talk to that it was ages before we could get a cuppa. Thank you to all who turned out or sent their apologies.
Here are the Eulogies from myself (John) and Trevor.
Celebrate a life well lived
Jim was the sort of person who wanted to make life better for himself and others. So he threw himself into everything he did. This often put him at odds with those who wanted things to stay the same.
Some of the orginisations that he was associated over the years include
Scouts
Ellerslie Harriers
Auckland Boy’s Grammar
St Johns Ambulance
NZ Territorial Army Artillery Battery
4th Field Regiment, 2nd NZEF (active in Italy)
NZ Customs Department
Public Service Association
Independent Order of Oddfellows
NZ Society of Customs Agents
Auckland Customs Broker’s Association
Blockhouse Bay Community Center
Amanesco House Restoration Society
Candidate Auckland local body elections
Pasadena School Hall project
Blockhouse Bay Bowling Club
I’ll leave others to talk about those. I only really knew him as a father.
He was a demi-god to a small boy. After Mum got polio, I remember discovering his human-ness. Sitting close and seeing the pores of his skin, the shape of his nose, his eyes and his eyebrows and feeling that it was almost too personal but feeling privileged to be let so close.
He also let me steer the car as we drove home down a country road.
Later on I was difficult for him and I am surprised that he kept as much hair as he did. Even last year, after my son had brought up some issue with me, I rang Dad to opologise for the way I had been.
When visiting him last year, he would remark to visitors, ‘I am surprised how well John and I are getting on”. It was a great time to get as close as we were when I was a small boy sitting on his lap steering the V8.
The legacy he left me with is this. It changed my life and I will share it with you now.
Often, there is what you feel like doing and there is the correct thing to do.
Doing the correct thing is far more powerful and leads to a simple life.
I asked him last week if he had any regrets. He had none.
I asked him what he considered to be his triumphs. He said, ’My marriage and my business’.
Today is about celebrating Jim’s life.
If I was asked to sum up Jim in a short sentence it would be
“Intelligent, Independent but obstinate and with an aversion for those in authority”
Not a good mixture, but understandable when you consider his upbringing.
Jim’s story, not unlike many others of his generation, is one that can never be duplicated in another age.
He was the unplanned last son of a family whose forebears had worked in the gold mines at Gabriel’s Gully, cleared farmland on the isolated West Coast and logged native timber in the camps of the South island, the King Country and the Hokianga. A true pioneer family.
Unlike his older brothers, Dad was born in the relative comfort of semi-rural Milford. It allowed him to receive better school opportunities.
However this was in the depths of the Great Depression. The family struggled to survive, and were often disappointed by circumstances that seemed designed to ensure their ongoing financial hardship.
Wartime service brought comradeship, excitement and a continual series of promotions and demotions that kept Dad busy sewing on and removing strips from his uniform.
His best mate. Trevor Valentine died in a car accident shortly after the war.
The ongoing illnesses of Mom and Allan, and their early passing were naturally hard felt by Dad, as it was by the rest of the family.
You could therefore be excused for thinking that perhaps those traits I talked about earlier were learnt by life’s experiences.
I think more likely he was born with them because throughout his early school years, throughout his youth, service in the army and his professional career Dad had continual run in’s with authority.
Never anything too serious, but enough to reinforce the habit.
This seemed to be his natural element. It could be that he enjoyed the combat. I suspect he was more comfortable being on the “other side”.
For all of his life he maintained a lively interest in many clubs and organizations. Some of those organizations are represented here today and I am sure that they will recognize this portrait of Jim in their dealings with him.
Some with fond affection, some with gritted teeth.
And so it was, right to the end.
In the middle of last year, after one of his blackouts, his doctor organised some hospital time in the hope of arranging tests to confirm the true extent of his illness.
Dad contrived to frustrate their plans on the basis that they knew very little about his condition and all he needed was some medication to fix his appetite.
He harassed the hospital staff regardless of rank or intent and finally discharged himself so as not to miss out on his planned trip to Australia. It came as no surprise when he told us with some satisfaction that he had been listed as a “difficult patient”.
Later when he finally conceded to the hospital tests, I arranged for him to be discharged at 3pm because it suited my working day. Dad found out and promptly organized his own transport home and didn’t bother to tell me.
When I protested to him that he had wasted my time, he told me not to boss him around and he would do what he needed to do.
Up until the middle of December he maintained all he needed to do was regain his strength and he would be OK.
Even with the certain knowledge of his illness and its inevitable conclusion, he was still not going to be dictated too, especially by anything as mundane as doctors, cancers or human mortality.
One morning, a couple of weeks after New Year, he phoned to say “I don’t think I have long to go – I felt something turn last night”.
I was a bit shocked by the admission because he had seemed fairly positive up to that point.
I asked him if I should come over straightaway.
He said “yes”, so I quickly finished my breakfast and went over, expecting to see him on his last legs.
Instead when I got there he was up, dressed, had finished his breakfast and was just polishing off the cryptic crossword in the Herald. I thought “what!!! What the hell was that all about”?”
However, I think this was the point where he finally accepted his fate.
Jim insisted that he should die at home around the things that he knew and we are grateful for the hospice nurses for their help in allowing this to happen with some comfort and dignity.
Also, this could not have happened without the assistance from his grand-daughter, Amber who really took up the challenge to be with Dad, day and night, to act as his nurse.
The hospice kindly left a note explaining what might happen towards the end.
They also explained that most patients passed away around 4 in the morning, this being the darkest and quietest time of the day.
True to form, Jim finally passed away, not at 4 in the morning, but just after 4……in the afternoon. A final finger to those in authority who might try to organize his day.
They say that there are no degrees of death.
However, Dad lived a life of many degrees.
Thank you all for being part of that.
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