Thursday, January 7, 2010

Eulogy for Angela Hepperlin

Earlier this year when I spent the day with Nan, I told her she was my grandmother. She laughed her familiar, cheeky laugh and asked whether she had roused on me a lot. I told her with absolute honesty that she was the best possible grandmother.

Nanna taught me a lot (or attempted to) - good manners, considering others, speaking quietly and the correct order for washing the dishes - but never by rousing. Nan taught by example. She was ever calm, ever graceful and always alive with a vibrant joyfulness.

Nanna was cheeky. One time she took Teresa and I to mass in Springwood and a terrible smell wafted by. Teresa looked at me accusingly and whispered, "Was that you?" Nanna shooshed her with a twinkle in her eye and said, "No. If it were Greg it would be much worse."

Nanna played favourites with her grandchildren. Every single one of us knew we were Nanna's favourite and every single one of us was right. We all felt her special interest, her special connection to us. Her heart was big enough to love every one of her twenty nine grandchildren best of all.

Nanna was the quiet member of one of the great comedy double acts. Whenever Grandfather Jack was on one of his bouncy, rambunctious teasing sprees, the ones that started with, "Your father is an old fox. He has a bushy tail." Nanna would be standing nearby giving the look of silent assurance that said, "I'm on your side."

When Teresa was learning to drive, she drove with Nanna and Grandfather to Scone. After an hour of Jack's corrections and interference she insisted she couldn't bear it any more. He should take over the driving himself. Nanna gave Grandfather one of her special looks and said. "No dear. You're doing very well. Please keep driving." Grandfather was silent the rest of the way.

The grandchildren have always included Nanna as one of our generation. She was always on our side, even when she was tricking you into believing she was backing you up. Her children are a lovely bunch but all of them could learn from her example of calmness, grace and the power of silence. When ever any of you were misbehaving or teaching by rousing, Nanna would be there with that twinkle in her eye and the look that said, "I remember when your Mum/Dad was your age and was naughtier than you."

When Brenna was born, I asked Nanna's advice about parenting. She told me not to worry, "You love them and you feed them. After that how they turn out is pretty much up to them." Nanna was piercingly intelligent, with great insight into people but she was never judgemental. Her philosophy shown in her calm and quiet example was that simple. You love them and you feed them. I will miss her food, but never stop feeling her love.