A funeral was held a couple of days ago for a family friend who’d almost made it to 100 years, missing out by 5 months. He and his twin sister were born on the family farm, where he’d lived all his life barring a few hospital visits. For example, an accident on the farm when in his 20s left him unable to join the armed forces for the duration of the 2nd World War but he recovered sufficiently to become a wily and feared opponent on the district tennis & badminton courts.
In his teens he’s been a keen runner and while growing up he participated in tennis, cricket, the peculiar local Australian version of football, badminton, music, reading, athletics. He was a well respected drummer in many local bands & orchestras and met his future wife at a dance some fifty minutes drive from home. Becoming profoundly deaf in his early 60s was very distressing and curtailed his musical performances.
This was alleviated somewhat in his late 70s by the fitment of a cochlear hearing implant, learning to how recognise the signals as sound didn’t seem to take him very long at all. He & his wife spent their married life on the dairy farm, raising five children & 18 grandchildren plus an unspecified number of great-grandchildren.
I recall New Years Eve parties on that farm as fabulous affairs, more-so because his wife produced fantastic prize-winning cakes, scones & biscuits (hard cookies) in local competitions and didn’t skimp on anything when entertaining. There’d be music and dancing, singing, drinking, telling of tall tales, all great country entertainment & a chance to see friends who otherwise had limited social lives.
He was always a convivial chap, always willing to stop for a chat & it didn’t hurt at all that we followed the same city-based football team. Jack, it was a great honour to have known you and your wonderful, if somewhat colourful family.