Welcome
Good afternoon everyone. My name is Bec Massey and I will be looking after Maureen’s service today. For those of you that don’t know me, I am proud to be one of Maureen’s granddaughters. A few years ago, when I told Nana Moz that I had started working on funerals, she instantly and emphatically decided that I would conduct her service….as she does when she decides something..
As we all know, circumstances have changed, and many of us are unable to be here today. Our hearts are breaking for everyone who can’t be here. It feels like a kind of suspended grief. We are unable to perform those rituals that usually bring us comfort. While we are devastated that we can’t be together, we know that Moz would not want any of us to risk our health and the health of our family.
The Masseys and the Andersons are built from solid stock. Our ancestors survived wars, depressions, famines and plagues in the past; and we carry them with us in our DNA. I encourage those who cannot be here, if you are able, to light a candle and toast to all those who have gone before us. We are all connected by blood. We stand on the shoulders of giants. May we borrow some of their strength to get us through this until we are together again.
We’ll be planning another memorial at a later date, when it is safe to do so.
Our family would like to extend a heartfelt thank you to the nurses and all staff at Stroud Community Lodge who provided Maureen with the absolute best of care. We know she’s not always the easiest of patients, but I’m sure she made up for it with her no nonsense personality. Thank you again.
Introduction
I welcome you here today to the service where we celebrate the life of Maureen Anne Massey. We gather to mourn her death, share our grief and celebrate her life.
When preparing for this service, I spoke with my Aunt Chrissie about that strange feeling that comes over you when someone so close and so important to you passes away. It is as though the world continues on around us and looks as it always did, but we feel different. It’s as though our loved ones take a little piece of us with them and we are left in the world, but not of the world. The phrase ‘liminal space’ crossed my mind and it’s defined as – a place of transition, a threshold between two points, signaling the end of one time or space, and the beginning of another.
All of us, Moz included, are in a kind of transitional space. Moz is starting her adventures in the ether, catching up with old friends and cherished loved ones, while our threshold is bittersweet. We are happy that she lived a long and wonderful life and is no longer in pain, but we are saddened to continue our journey on earth without her wise words and quick wit…. and the occasional expletive.
I love that within families, each member can have a slightly different relationship with the same person. It’s as though we get to know different facets of their personality and Moz certainly had plenty of that to go around! My childhood memories of Moz included family gatherings at the house on Bilgola Plateau where she lived with her twin sister Margaret. The backyard under the Jacaranda tree, lots of dancing, the two sausage dogs Queenie and Elroy and one particular occasion when I was quite young, Nana telling me I was only allowed to use two squares of toilet paper – I guess I must have been going through it!
I’m sure she probably gave me lollies when no one was looking and did all those things nanas are good at…but I remember more of her in her later years and I will especially cherish spending time with her in the last couple of years.
I’d now like to ask Moz’s youngest granddaughter Olivia up here to read a poem. It’s called I am a child of the Stars by Ted Noffs.
Poem – Read by Olivia
I am a child of the stars.
My religion, like the clothes I wear,
will one day belong to the dust of the centuries.
My spirit is immortal and belongs to the universe.
Our sons and daughters are the princes and princesses of an eternal kingdom. They inherit the riches and resources of this planet for a span,
until they continue their journey through time and space.
Thank you Olivia.
Speakers/Eulogy
Read by Chrissy, Angela, Dean and others who would like to say a few words
You were many things to many people, one thing is certain you were loved – by Angie
Mozza – by Chrissy
Jacaranda Tree – Poem by Melissa Massey (read by Ruben)
Eulogy – by Dean
Thank you all. So many memories and stories we all keep. I encourage all of us to continue sharing our stories of Moz, and in telling those stories we keep her alive in our hearts and minds.
Reflection Song
We will now take a moment to think of what Moz meant to us, and send her love and comfort for her onward journey. We’ll be listening to a song very dear to Moz’s heart and one that she fiercely embodied throughout her life.
Helen Reddy – I am Woman 3:25
Reading/Poem
Forget Me Not – Read by Rachael
I give you this one thought to keep – I am with you still – I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow, I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle Autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush I am the swift, uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not think of me as gone –
I am with you still – in each new dawn.
Concluding words
Moz left earth on quite an auspicious day, it turns out. The 21st of June was winter solstice; the day where the night is it’s longest, but far from being a solely meteorological event, the Winter Solstice has so much to teach us.
Overall, the Winter Solstice is about slowing down, about rest and renewal. It evokes inwardness, depth and darkness.
This is reflected in our plant kin as their sap is pulled downwards towards their roots. This is why the winter is the best for harvesting roots, as their medicine is most potent at this time.
It is kind of like the Winter Solstice is knitted into our biology – each of our cells has its own descent and ascent, just as the sun does throughout the year. In fact, every single thing, from our cells to the soil to the Sun, is taking part in this process.
The turnings of the year are a beautiful reminder of the connection between the microcosm and the macrocosm. The Winter Solstice being particularly powerful because it reminds us of a place that is important and healthy for us to embrace as individuals and a culture.
The Winter Solstice is woven into the very depths of our bones and marrow. With every breath we have an opportunity to touch silence, stillness and solitude.
Just like our plant kin, by descending towards our roots, we gather strength and energy for when it is time to bloom again.
Maureen meant so much to all of us. She was our anchor; our roots. A mother, a sister – and lifelong member of the Yaya’s, an auntie, a great auntie, a mother-in-law, a
grandmother and even a great grandmother. She will be greatly missed and her passing leaves a big hole in our family. We’ll think of her when we hear her favourite songs or when a waft of her perfume floats past our nose on the breeze. I have no doubt that I will hear her voice giving me advice in the quiet moments. And when I grow up, I hope I don’t give a flying flip what people think of me, just like she did.
The time has come to say farewell to our beloved Moz. Often bold and brash, we loved her dearly and will continue to do so. We take comfort in the idea that she has been greeted by her much loved twin Margaret, her son Paul, Big Alan and her little brother Peter. I encourage everyone to go gently as we leave this place, with a quietness of spirit and our hearts full of love for Maureen, our fearless, fabulous, flawed and faithful leader. As we accompany her out of this beautiful space, we’ll listen to one of her favourite tunes.
End/Carry out Song
Travelling Wilburys – End of the Line 3:25
There will be a smoking ceremony at the end.
White Petals – After the smoking ceremony, please play the arrival music quietly.
Goodbye Moz 