I found this Word document dating back to 2006 in my archives, and in an effort to preserve it I have decided to now post it online. This is the eulogy that I read out at my grandfather’s (father’s father) memorial service just after he passed away.
Willem Adriaan Lotter (26/09/1932 – 27/11/2006) – Eulogy 30/11/2006
Willem Lotter to most of you, Grandpa Lotter to me. I’m standing here today to just say a few words, share a few thoughts about my Grandpa and the life he lived before he finally passed on.
My Gran and Grandpa got married in 1954 and enjoyed 52 years of marriage, enduring both the good and the bad times together – on that note I suppose I’d better include their four sons as a good thing (after all one of them is the reason I’m here). But it was the together part that I want to harp upon. I don’t think Grandpa and Gran ever did things apart – they always stuck together through thick and thin and I think this has been especially noticeable through Grandpa’s final years, when Gran has pulled through the strain and stubbornly stuck by his side no matter what. So for this I want to thank you Gran, thank you for showing all of us just what the bonds of marriage means. You have without a doubt stood by those words uttered so long ago “In sickness and in health, for better and worse, until death do us part.” For that alone I thank you from the bottom of my heart.
But this is about Grandpa and his life. Throughout his life, Grandpa worked to the benefit of those others who could not help themselves. He started his career in psychiatric nursing in his hometown of Grahamstown at the Fort England institute before moving down to the Cape where he continued his good work at both the Stikland and Valkenberg psychiatric hospitals where he eventually became a matron.
Outside of work, Grandpa shared with Gran a love for the great outdoors. For as long as I have known them, Grandpa and Gran never ceased to travel. Almost every weekend they would be in some new location, travelling by trusty caravan or AutoVilla to some far off location, braving wind and rain simply to enjoy the beauties of nature and the company of all their friends in the Tygerberg Caravan Club. And every now and then one of us Grandkids would go along for the ride – and make no mistake, it was always fun!
There is probably ONE word that sums up Grandpa – ‘Mischievous’. When you saw that twinkle in his eye and that small little grin sitting above that ‘bokbaard’ of his, you know you were in for a treat (or trouble if you were his intended target). I remember how he would mercilessly tease Gran or us kids, or pull the funniest pranks and tell the most hilarious jokes. He had a particular trick with his false teeth that always got the better of us when we were little. Grandpa was always a laugh and that is something I’ll never forget. He also made the best pancakes – the largest, most delicious pancakes in the whole wide world)
Grandpa took great interest in us his grandchildren. He would literally spend hours playing with us, be it cricket with his old plastic cricket set or ludo with us taking up all of Gran’s table. We played cards and board games until it came out of our ears! And he always made it treat for us to be there by them.
He really enjoyed his sports and mom and dad involved in good natured battle of either Jukskei, bowls, darts, cards or whatever caught his fancy at that moment. Every Wednesday and Friday night without fail, mom and Gran (The ladies) would take on the men at Canasta, but I’m afraid to say that 90% of the time dad and grumps came out on top.
Grandpa was a stubborn man who did things the way he believed things should be done. I once remember when we were with on a caravanning trip through the Kruger Park how Grandpa insisted on getting out of the car in the middle of a game drive simply to admire the view better and have a cup of coffee. No matter what the rules were or said, Grandpa would insist on staying true to himself.
And that’s the memory I will hold onto of my grandfather: The white-haired mischievous stubborn man with a twinkle in his eye and a grin on his face that always had time and a place in his heart for his family.
And although he may no longer be with us in the flesh, I can picture him even now, sitting somewhere in the veldt under a giant shady tree in his trusty old camp-chair, watching down over us with a great big mug of coffee in his hand.
I found this Word document dating back to 2004 in my archives, and in an effort to preserve it I have decided to now post it online. This is the eulogy that I read out at my grandfather’s (mother’s father) memorial service just after he passed away.
Stefanus Cristoffel Bothma (Fanie) – Eulogy, Wednesday 7th January 2004
Stefanus Cristoffel Bothma. Or Grandpa Sedgefield as he was known to us kids all the years. There is a lot that I can say about this special man, but I probably don’t have all the words I want to use, or the time to say it all. Perhaps I should start with a poem by Henry Scott Holland. He probably sums up death the best and this poem in particular is special to the family for other reasons as well. It’s called “In Deepest Sympathy”.
Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away into the next room.
I am I, and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way which you
always used.
Put no difference in your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as we always laughed,
At the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Pray, smile, think of me, pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
It always was, let it be spoken without effect,
Without the trace of a shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same as it ever was;
There is unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind because I am
out of sight?
I am waiting for you, for an interval,
Somewhere very near, just around the corner.
All is well
He is waiting for us, somewhere very near. Just around the corner. Grandpa Sedgefield, or Grumps as I used to call him, was probably one of the kindest, gentlest of men you would meet. Very unlike his fiery red-headed appearance, Grumps almost never raised his voice nor spoke a word in anger. He always did his utmost to help people in need, no matter who they were.
A loving husband, he and Gran were married for 51 years. It would have been 52 in March. It was a loving friendship and relationship that stood the test of time – and brought many wonderful memories and moments with it.
Grumps was a very meticulous and thorough person. He was also very dedicated, and if he started something then he would see it through to the end. He worked for the post office for his whole life, and made many friends amongst his colleagues. He was a hard worker and a respected man. He was also a very cleanly man, and I remember that if there was a bit of fluff or dirt on your shirt, then he would lean over and remove it for you. He hated to see things out of place, and even now at the retirement home, he would walk around picking up things off the floor and giving it to the nursing staff to get rid of. With him everything had a time and place of its own and it was an ordered universe in which he lived.
He was a very helpful person, and Granny can’t even begin to remember how many people he would stop to help alongside the road, pulling their cars along when they got stuck with his trusty old Toyota Corona bakkie. Talking about cars, Grandpa was really passionate about his vehicles. One of his first cars that he owned when Granny met him was an old Morgan sports car. To this day Gran’s not sure whether she fell in love with Grandpa or with the car first. The car I will remember him the most for was his old Corona bakkie. He saw this old thing parked at the apartments where my mom and dad were staying and instantly fell in love with it. Gran and the rest of the family couldn’t understand it. It back had completely rusted off, so it looked more like a truck without a trailer. Still he persevered and managed to buy this thing off its owner. We don’t even think it was for sale at that time. Anyway, he fixed it up and had a wooden back-end fitted. This bakkie took him everywhere, and us grand kids had great fun on its back.
My mom remembers her dad of course as any daughter would. But she also remembers in particular how helpful he was when she and Ronnie first got married and moved out. Grumps went out of his way to help them and show my dad the tricks to DIY. Grandpa was a very practical person, and his garage was always packed with tools – all on their specially marked out places of course! He loved his woodwork, and I can remember him making all sorts of toys for us.
I remember my Grandpa as the great man that he was. I remember the time he spent with us grand kids, how he would take us for drives and walks, how we would sit staring over the Sedgefield Lagoon or run over the sand dunes. I remembering snuggling up against him late nights and watching the Lone Ranger riding into the sunset. He was a special man and we loved him dearly.
A good way to end this is by remembering his greatest passion during the year. He was an avid Formula One fan and wouldn’t miss a single race. He was a great Michael Schumacher fan and no matter how much I made fun of it, his man always seemed to win. Like Formula One, life is a race, and Grandpa has finally completed it. I think he won – but to him it was probably just the joy of taking part that kept him going. We love you and miss you. But we know that you will always be close by.
An elderly grandfather was sitting on the edge of his bed, busy removing his socks.
All of a sudden, his wife of fifty years came running naked down the passage, burst into the room, and leapt into the air and onto the bed, arms outstretched and screaming “Super Pussy!!!!” as she came down.
