Here are the eulogies from me and Ross at mum's service today. Accompanied by a photo of the two of them just a couple of months ago!

Margaret Piper Eulogy part A - Bruce

Ladies and gentlemen, honoured friends

Today we remember an exceptional woman, who all her life did exceptional things.

Growing up fast after overcoming the early tragedy of her father’s untimely death, Margaret was always a high achiever, but especially in the areas of life that are truly important. She and her siblings Reg, Jack and Wendy helped support their mother, with Margaret, who left school at 15, later completing the Leaving Certificate and working as a medical technologist, all the while being heavily involved in Christian activities, prompted by her deep faith. She made a success of everything she turned her hand to, whether at work, raising her family or serving the community, and she was highly respected by her wide circle of friends.

Meeting and then marrying dad at the age of 27 after a whirlwind romance, this dynamic couple worked like what seemed to be a well oiled machine - although I’m sure it was jolly hard work too - supporting one another as they raised four exceptionally fortunate children, giving us all an amazing foundation which has enabled each of us to achieve success. But much more than that, her selfless example of service, her open heart of generosity and her relentless desire to do good has left us in awe as we look back at her 87 glorious years.

She was good at so many creative things - music, sewing, painting, any form of arts and crafts.
Mum was so gregarious, and involved with so many different friendship groups - through church, tennis, the gym, her local neighbourhood, travelling companions and more. Her arts and crafts store was a pillar of the annual Beecroft Presbyterian Church fete for many years, and I think when she turned 80 I asked her if it might be time to have a rest! Maybe next year, she said.

She was an incredible planner and would make preparations for all sorts of things way in advance - my wife Jenny remembered one year we were hosting Christmas and Mum ringing her in September to ask what she could bring so she could get it ready! Those preparations - much to everyone’s discomfort at the time and concern that it might be a bit morbid - included plenty of suggestions for her funeral. Please don’t blame us for the choices of the hymns (and even the tunes), what’s in the order of service and any of the music - because she chose it all years ago, leaving detailed instructions which have been just so helpful in this difficult time. Yesterday her brother Jack, who we are so lucky to be able to have here in person, commented on the life history that is included in the service book, and said it must have been Dad’s work. No not at all - Margaret had it all written out for inclusion in her funeral service, along with a whole lot of other instructions. Not to mention the box! She would be disgusted to see that it is made of wood - she really wanted a cardboard one - but whatever was the cheapest. In fact she once told me she would be more than happy to be put out with the otto bins!

She had 11 dearly loved grandchildren - and almost a great-grandchild who is due in a couple of months - and always had time for everyone - we used to joke about how she would insist on sitting and having lunch with tradespeople, or indeed anyone who had come to help out around the house. Margaret didn’t just look after her own family; in retirement her many activities also included volunteering as a ward granny at Westmead Children’s Hospital. Margaret truly had Christ’s heart for those around her, helping anyone who had a need and thoughtfully, practically loving everyone - not just those who loved her back. She had no expectations of anyone and that enabled her to love freely.

When we all started to leave home, along came the dogs - first the much beloved Toby, and more recently Benny, who doesn’t really know what’s going on. I know several of the grandchildren would have liked Benny to be here, sitting up in his pram, or more likely taking a seat that had been momentarily vacated by one of the adults. They are dogs, not humans, we would tell mum. But as well as being faithful companions, these animals weren’t just pets - she set them to work, training them so they could help out with pet therapy, particularly at Allowah Children’s Hospital, which was a real passion.

Oh yes, and just for fun, she wrote, illustrated and published a couple of children’s books about Toby which are now the favourite bedtime reading for literally thousands of kids. Her writing also included a 108-page life story, and I have the precious original here.

About six months ago she told me that helping out those kids at Allowah Children’s hospital, who are not nearly as fortunate as any of us, was - out of all the amazing things that she achieved during her life - the best thing she ever did. And you’ll see on the front of the service booklet a quote about her attitude to possessions, versus what is really important - in 100 years time all that will last is the difference we make in other people’s lives (of course she insisted that should go in).

As you will all know, among her many activities, Mum was always a keen gardener, and in fact I have to admit to being complicit in helping her set up a highly elaborate automatic watering system - I think at its peak it had six different zones all around the house which were carefully calibrated to turn on at particular intervals and spray water onto the plants, which grew into a beautiful garden. But then a drought came along, meaning, shock horror, water restrictions. What to do? It meant all those sprayers had to be changed into drippers - but she said to me, don’t worry, with just a dripper you can still make the desert bloom.

And that’s exactly what her life was like - she was a dripper of goodness to those around her. Drip, drip drip she went, quietly spreading friendship, care, concern, compassion and creativity. Margaret’s life was like a constant drip of salt and light - and the outpouring of love, concern and condolences which have been such a comfort in the last week reflects the glorious oasis that was created as a result.

Eulogy Part B - Ross

It is an honour to share some brief thoughts on Margaret Piper, soulmate of John, our mum, nanna to many grandkids, and a friend to so many people who would have dearly loved to be here today, but alas COVID has necessitated other plans. We are deeply saddened by nanna’s sudden passing, and have been so appreciative of the incredible support and love received from so many people over the past 7 days. A little over a week ago Nanna was perfectly healthy, and we would never have imagined that we would be here today. “Life surprises and tears you, like the southerly” is a line from a Midnight Oil song I love, and somewhat encapsulates our shocked and heartbroken state today.

And so we find ourselves unexpectedly saying goodbye. We do this with deep sadness, but also with profound thanks for the life that nanna lived, and also with the confidence that she has gone to be with her father in heaven. Nanna had a beautiful faith, and in so many ways this shaped her character and all aspects of who she was. This is beautifully summarised in the passage on the fruits of the spirit in Galatians, which epitomises her character in so many ways: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness and self control.

As we grieve so Nan and Pop’s grandkids grieve. We asked each of them to share some thoughts on what they loved about nanna. Some of things that the kids said were:
- The amazing example she set for all of us, her kindness, caring nature, and the time she invested in everybody; the way she made you feel at home
- Her heart for Jesus. She was always willing to stop to go out for a walk, have a chat, or share her most recent masterpiece. She always prioritised people over task or busyness
- Her happy demeanour, support and interest in everything we did.
- Her sense of humour, her jokes and her Nanna cakes! She always had time to make nanna cakes whenever I asked!
- Her gentleness, creativity and the way that she would listen to all of the dog dramas and teach us how to care for them.

These comments so beautifully capture Nanna’s character. A friend of mine recently commented after seeing a photo of nanna, that he could see the goodness of her heart shining out through her eyes.

Other memories we cherish about Nanna:

- Sitting in her chair, doing the crossword, or watching Letters and Numbers every night (she was most put out when the Tour de France was on recently, and her favourite show was temporarily paused!)
- The way Benny was always given a chair to sit at the table with the adults, or his pram transport, or the many culinary delights he gets to share in
- Working on craft/creativity. We used to joke that if you left any bare timber lying around, it may well end up being adorned by some folkart! Cricket bats, timber golf clubs, wooden toolboxes, guitars, the occasional vehicle fender, nothing was safe
- Swimming with Benny
- Chastising pop for his shopping and procurement tendencies (noting that we have a local officeworks sub-branch in the study at 37 Chapman)
- Watching Hymns of Praise with Benny on a Sunday morning

For our Dad John, we grieve with you and walk with you in the loss of your soulmate of more than 60 years. You have honoured her, cherished her, laughed with her, cried with her, prayed with her, loved and served her, and you have both been such profound role models for all of us kids and grandkids in all aspects of our lives. When the hospital called in the early hours of the morning last Tuesday, saying that Nanna had passed away, I’m very thankful that some of us were able to visit and spend some time saying farewell. It was a deeply sad but also sacred time, to sit beside you as you said farewell to your best friend. This was not the way we had expected things would go, especially given your own recent illness (and by the way, we are very thankful to have you back Lazarus!), but we have confidence and take heart in the knowledge that this is how Nanna would have chosen to go. In fact the hospital nurse shared with us, that on Monday night as Nan was being tucked in to bed, she was quite chatty and sharing stories including how her own grandmother had dropped dead in the midst of tending to the chickens in the backyard, and how she reckoned that would be a good way to go.

Nanna would expect us to grieve, but not for too long. She would have wanted us to lift our eyes, and to keep looking forward, celebrating life with a focus on the good things, the kind things, the gentle things and the simple moments of awe that cross our paths every day. ‘Nothing to do, and all day to do it’ was an often sung refrain of hers! The other quote Nanna loved to repeat was “How beautiful it is to do nothing, and rest afterward”. Nanna had a remarkable gift of finding good in everything and everyone, a little bit like the ‘divine spark’ that the author Tim Winton speaks of. Nanna had a wonderful sense of humour, and an ability to calibrate that humour to relate to so many diverse people on their level. Nanna always had time to talk, to cook with grandkids, to share a story or a joke. She had an adventurous and fun-loving spirit. Her travels took her to all sorts of weird and wonderful parts of the world, including remote indigenous Australia, warzones in the former Yugoslavia, Europe and the middle east and even to the occasional international TAFE conference with Dad. She remained young at heart until the day she died, and was also extraordinarily stoic. Even when we took her up to emergency last Monday, she insisted on walking in, carrying her overnight bag in case she needed to spend the night.

I know I speak for all the kids and grandkids in saying that she was actually a pretty cool mum and grandmother to have. Who else would have a mother that would hand sew them a satin smoking jacket for their 21st birthday, or who would have indulged her daughter’s proclivities to covertly bring home stray cats, or who would have involved her grandkids in the many different ways she loved and served kids with severe disabilities.
She was playful and gentle. Just last night one of the grandkids was recounting a story of when he was on a local walk with nanna, and they went past a building site where there was some freshly laid and still wet cement on the footpath. Noting that there were no workmen around, Nanna picked up a stick and carved the initials and a simple drawing of the said grandchild into the cement, before they hurriedly made an exit. The child was very worried that Nanna might go to jail, before appreciating how special it was to have a grandmother who would be willing to deface public property for them! Yes indeed, mischievous is a good word to describe Nanna, along with the fact that she was one of gentlest and kindest people to walk the face of this earth.

When I was a young child, nanna told me that I once asked her about death, which she said was a deep question and responded with her normal love and empathy. When she asked why I was interested, my response was that I wanted to know who would make the nanna cakes for us if she died? Well now she is suddenly gone, and as we grieve and celebrate her life, we recognise the fingerprints of her grace filled character in so many parts of our lives and in who we are. She would have wanted each of us to carry this forward, and so in honouring her and celebrating her life, let me challenge all of us to think about which elements of Nanna’s character touched you, and that you would like to carry forward. Our world will be a kinder and better place for it.

Rest in peace and in eternal glory Nanna. We count ourselves as the luckiest to have had Margaret Vivienne Piper in our lives.