SC - LONG OT. OP: Gryffon's Funeral Service

[Lorix]

I have received so many messages of support & good wishes since
Gryff's death last Friday.  I thank you all for that.  At some point,
I will reply to you all individually, but it is not something I am
capable of doing at the moment.

I have been asked about the funeral arrangements & the sending of
flowers.  

As my father was going on a prolonged overseas business trip on
Saturday, we held a small private ceremony at the Cornelian Bay
Crematorium Saturday morning.  The service was conducted by my father
& myself.  For those interested, I have included a copy of what I said
during the service, below.  

At some later stage (in perhaps 3 or 4 weeks) I am intending to hold a
memorial picnic - perhaps at Mt Field National Park.  This will
probably depend on the weather.  This will be open to all that wish to
attend.  I will advise of details when things are settled.

As the funeral has occurred, I would prefer that flowers _not_ be
sent.  Instead, perhaps a donation could be made to one of Gryff's
preferred charities, in his name (Peter McCoy-Caldwell).  A list of
these details will follow soon for those who would like to contribute.

My Pelican, Mistress Isabeau of the Wylde Woode (Angie Eves), is
compiling a folder of people's memories of Gryffon.  I have read those
contributions written thus far, and was greatly touched.  Any who wish
to contribute to this written memorium should contact her (or just
send submissions to her).  Her postal address is 38 Armstrong St,
Ashfield, NSW 2131.  I gather, for niceties of presentation, she would
prefer any submissions sent to be sent without being folded if
possible ;-)

Lastly, I have received many requests from people as to whether there
is anything they can do for me.  One thing that has struck me in
particular is, that despite spending 10 years together, I have only
our wedding photos and a few other photos of Gryffon.  Therefore, if
anybody has in their collection any photos of my beloved that they
would be willing to spare, I would greatly appreciate them.  Such
photos can be sent to to me (Louise McCoy-Caldwell) at my postal
address at:  PO Box 1104, Rosny Park, TAS  7018.

Again, I thank you all for your support and understanding at this
time.

Walk in Peace
Lorix


***************************************

IN LOVING MEMORY OF PETER LEONARD MCCOY-CALDWELL 28/01/1960 -
30/06/2000
(spoken by his wife, Louise McCoy-Caldwell)

Peter & I met at Easter, 10 years ago, through the SCA - a living
history group.  In a fortnight's time, we would have lived together
for 10 years:  being married for over 6 of those years.  

I have exceedingly fond memories of our wedding.  I married Peter in a
red silk dress (which had an amusing shock value, if nothing else)
while he was resplendent in tails.  This was in the heat of January
summer's day, at 30 degrees  plus, in Sydney.  For the 'traditional'
wedding dance, we danced to the song "Makin Whoopee" - with me
complete with a feather boa.  The song was taken off the soundtrack
from the movie Sleepless in Seattle, a movie which we both enjoyed
together.  The songs on the record, were ones that we both enjoyed &
which we often played.  It is appropriate then, that it is that which
is now being played as background music.

> Songs played as background music throughout service included:
>   'As Time Goes By' - Jimmy Durante
>   'A Kiss to Build a Dream On' - Louis Armstrong
>   'Stardust' - Nat King Cole
>   'Makin Whoopee' - Dr John & Rickie Lee Jones

Dying, a man of limited means & in a world that values the trappings
of material success, many would not deem Peter a success.  However, no
matter what Peter did or might have done with his life (had he not
been taken from us so early) he should never have been measured by his
material success.

Peter's legacy is how he made people feel.  

Peter was perhaps the most caring, kind & gentle man that I know. 
That I have been privileged to share 10 years of his life, will always
be a gift that I will treasure for the rest of mine.

Peter was intensely interested in people & enjoyed being with them.  
He genuinely cared deeply about how people felt .  From his point of
view, the greatest gift he could receive was that of friendship.  That
sometimes he would give, and receive nothing in return, did nothing to
mitigate the way he felt about people.  He was a much nicer and more
forgiving person than myself.  It is a measure of the kind of man that
he was, that he was genuinely surprised by the outpouring of affection
that occurred since it was announced that he was sick.

Peter's lived is life in a manner best described in the following poem
that was apparently inspired by a line from Homer:  
   "He was a friend to man, and he lived
       In a House by the side of the road"

> "THE HOUSE BY THE SIDE OF THE ROAD" - Sam Walter Foss (1858-1911)
> There are hermit souls that live withdrawn
>  In the place of their self-content;
> There are souls like stars, that dwell apart, 
>  In a fellowless firmament;
> There are pioneer souls that blaze their paths
>  Where highways never ran -
> But let me live by the side of the road
>  And be a friend to man.

> Let me live in a house by the side of the road,
>  Where the race of men go by -
> The men who are good and the men who are bad,
>  As good and bad as I.
> I would not sit in the scorner's seat,
>  Or hurl the cynic's ban -
> Let me live in a house by the side of the road
>  And be a friend to man.

> I see from my house by the side of the road,
>  By the side of the highway of life,
> The men who press with the ardour of hope,
>  The men who are faint with the strife.
> But I turn not away from their smiles nor their tears,
>  Both parts of an infinite plan - 
> Let me live in a house by the side of the road
>  And be a friend to man.

> I know there are brook-gladdened meadows ahead
>  And mountains of wearisome height;
> That the road passes on through the long afternoon
>  And stretches away to the night.
> But still I rejoice when the travellers rejoice,
>  And weep with the strangers that moan,
> Nor live in my house by the side of the road
>  Like a man who dwells alone.

> Let me live in my house by the side of the road -
>  It's here the race of men go by.
> They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
>  Wise, foolish - so am I;
> Then why should I sit in the scorner's seat,
>  Or hurl the cynic's ban?
> Let me live in a house by the side of the road
>  And be a friend to man.

While I 'know people', Peter knew about them.  His interests were
extremely varied and he would listen and remember much of what he
would have talked about with people.  He was a man who, at a distance
from his own family, so in turn embraced the family inherent in the
SCA & then later took my family as his own.  

When my grandfather died, I picked out a poem which my father read at
the funeral.  Peter, who had learned more about my Grandfather's life
than I probably did, said to me that he felt the poem that was read
out was also applicable to himself.  He had said that if he died, it
was something that he would like read out at his funeral.  It is
called "IF" by Rudyard Kipling.

> If you can keep your head when all about you
>  Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
> If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
>  But make allowances for their doubting too:
> If you can wait and not be tired of waiting,
>  Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
> Or being hated don't give way to hating,
>  And yet don't look too good, not talk too wise;

> If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
>  If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim,
> If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
>  And treat those two imposters just the same:
> If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
>  Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
> Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
>  And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools;

> If you can make one heap of all your winnings
>  And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
> And lose, and start again at your beginings,
>  And never breathe a word about your loss:
> If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
>  To serve your turn long after they are gone,
> And so hold on when there is nothing in you
>  Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

> If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
>  Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
> If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
>  If all men count with you, but none too much:
> If you can fill the unforgiving minute
>  With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
> Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
>  And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

PETER DIED KNOWING THAT HE WAS LOVED.  LIFE FOR ME AND FOR THOSE WHO
KNEW & LOVED HIM WILL BE A POORER LIFE.


Following the above, Peter was sent off as we listened
to the London Synphonic Orchestra playing an instrumental
version of Simon & Garfunkel's song: "Bright Eyes".  

Another song from the movie "Sleepless in Seattle" 
played as we left the chapel - 'I'll See you In My Dreams' 
performed by Jimmy Durante.