The other speaker was an Australian psychologist whose talk was about dealing with adversity and stress. We had to listen to each other’s talks a number of times.
The thing I remember was his opening gambit when he asked those in the audience to raise their hand if they hadn’t encountered tragedy and maybe a third did.
“Don’t worry,” Dennis would say, “you will and I’m here to give you some of the tools to deal with it.”
We got a garbled call to get ourselves to Havelock North quick a week ago and we did, to find that my brother-in-law and close mate Glen Clark and husband to my oldest friend and sister Susanna had died suddenly.
She had gone through20 ghastly minutes performing CPR until the ambulance arrived and by the time we arrived Glen was pronounced dead.
We’d only been there four weeks earlier with friends and family to celebrate his 60th birthday on a happy occasion and now in an instant his family’s lives had changed irrevocably forever.
Within two days the coroner rang me with the news that he had been taken by a brain aneurism, which was of some comfort given it was immediate and no matter how good or poor Sue’s efforts or the response time, it made no difference.
We’ve had tragedy and tough times before but holding your sister while she rang her three kids scattered around the world to tell them the appalling news will stay with me all my days.
As is part of the process that we must all go through at various times in our lives, once we got through that long, appalling night, arrangements for a suitable farewell needed to be put in place. Busying yourself with that, I’ve found, is one of the mechanisms to cope with the sudden reality we are faced with.
I was honoured to be entrusted by Susanna, Hamish, Adam and Dana to deal with the funeral directors, police, coroners and caterers while they, Jane, our families and friends dealt with their grief and the large amount of folk who came to offer their support.
Glen was a roading engineer with Opus and used by the company for training young folk as he was a terrific mentor. I was the celebrant at his farewell and had kept myself reasonably together until the last speaker Quentin, Glen’s first cadet spoke how he had been a lost boy and Glen had saved him, given him purpose and direction and remained a lifetime friend and support.
Glen’s wife and kids all spoke earlier on and gave such heartfelt tributes that the 500 folk who shared this wonderful occasion broke into spontaneous applause, something I’d always been tempted to do myself after terrific eulogies at other funerals but hadn’t.
Following that, his motorsport mates, boss, social cricket team members, sister, my young brother and the Mackie kids who had grown up with his children after they performed a stunning version of his favourite song, Comfortably Young, were all clapped. He even got applause as he was driven away for his final lap in a beloved Holden.
He was a terrific fellow and will be greatly missed by all his family and friends.
Life is a wonderful thing but the toughest aspect of being human and of love is that in the end one must deal with loss and learn those tools and mechanisms to make it as bearable as possible.
