My dad, Peter Briggs, died in the early hours of 25th June 2024 and we held his funeral yesterday, 22nd July. some of those who were able to attend have requested a copy of the eulogy and readings, and some of those who unfortunately could not join us in person have expressed an interest in hearing more about them too, so I thought it might be nice to preserve some of what happened at our celebration of Peter Briggs. The number of people who were able to attend was astonishing and he would have been overwhelmed by the gathering of well-wishers who came to say goodbye with us. The number of ex-colleagues alone, considering that he retired five years ago, was testament to the effect he'd had during his 49 years working in the same building.
Dad's favourite treat was chocolate raisins, so I bought three kilograms of them and shared them between nearly one hundred (Moody) blue organza wedding-favour bags to give out to attendees.
The Order of Service
Here's an interactive version of the Order of Service for dad's funeral: use the < and > buttons to move between pages, and click the ⊕ signs for more information, links, and videos. Scroll down if you want to skip this and just find the link to the reading you're looking for.
The Readings
The Eulogy
Written and read by me, dad's middle son.
Dad's Last Ode
Dad was famous amongst friends, family and colleagues for his odes. This one was written by dad while in hospital during the last few months of his life as a 'thank you' to the nurses who worked tirelessly (despite increasingly difficult conditions across the NHS). It was read on the day by Matt, dad's oldest son, who did a sterling job despite the poignancy of this piece. The last two lines still get me every time.
Oh, to be a Bumbly Bee
Written by dad, and one of four poems to be published in an anthology called Spring Poets '71 back in 1971. It was read by Lynne's daughter, Jane, with her daughter, Isabelle. Isabelle is 11 and did an absolutely fantastic job.
The Music
Dad chose the three songs he wanted to be played at his funeral. He was an enormous fan of The Moody Blues and as such all three were by them. Colleagues, friends and family arrived and settled and then I, along with my two brothers and dad's two brothers, carried his coffin in to The Day We Meet Again. Following the introduction, my eulogy, and Matt's reading of dad's final ode, we had a few minutes of quiet reflection to Voices in the Sky, which preceded the committal. After Jane and Isabelle's reading of Oh, to be a Bumbly Bee and some closing words from the celebrant, Kevin, we had a few moments of further reflection and then departed to In My World.
The After-Party
I never know what to call the bit after a funeral ('wake' has connotations that I'm not keen on). Once, many years ago, my brother (as a child) referred to a post-service scoff as "the after-party", so that's what it's been called in my mind ever since.
Anyway, following some milling and mingling outside the crematorium we filtered off to the nearest pub (Telford Lodge, by Brewers Fayre) where we'd booked a space and some sandwiches and nibbles.
Aside from the mass of people (which was such that we had no choice but to spill out from our allotted area, Lynne had set up a display of some of dad's favourite foods: he found enormous amounts of pleasure in simple pleasures, and these included (in addition to chocolate raisins) custard creams, scones, and Brantson pickle.
Dad's middle brother, Steve, put together a fantastic display of photographs from all stages of his life. The photograph I took doesn't do it justice:
You'll notice, toward the centre, something that is not a photograph but more evidence of a foodie favourite of my dad! Just as I was keeping my dad stocked up with chocolate raisins as his condition deteriorated over the last couple of months of his life, Steve was providing a constant stream of Wagon Wheels. I appear for definite in two of these photographs, but I'll be honest that I'm not entirely sure who all of the babies are that appear in images with him, so I may well make more appearances.
Far from the draining day of sadness that I was expecting, I actually found it energising and I ended the day feeling more positive than I have done in weeks. This was in part due to the range of people who came to help us celebrate the life of Peter Briggs, and I thank every one of them for doing so. This has been supported by a large number of messages of condolence, many of which have been accompanied by heartwarming and often funny memories.
If you have a memory of my dad that you'd like to share, I'd love to hear it. If you're happy to share it publicly, we have set up a web page where you can do so, whether it's a memory you can write, or a photograph, at https://peterbriggs.muchloved.com/.
You can also make a donation to our chosen charity, Prostate Cancer UK, using the 'donate' button on that page. This is, obviously, not essential, but it would help the charity to save more people from losing family and friends to this vicious illness: yesterday, I was around twenty years younger than my dad was when he delivered the eulogy at his own father's funeral.
I've written more than I intended, so I'll use my dad's own last words to sign off:
Cheery bye.
.jpg)
No comments:
Post a Comment
Hi, thanks for commenting. If you feel passionately about anything I've posted, please feel free to make your views known but please take the time to make sure that your comments are rational, considered and suitable for any audience.
Thanks for reading!