In Memory of Caroline
Here are the notes from my speech given to Mt Victoria Toastmasters in memory of my friend Caroline, who died in October last year, aged 62.
How we met
We met when I had a student summer job doing filing at the Natural Gas Corporation corporate library. Caroline was a corporate librarian there, organizing & researching vast amounts of technical information, such as
- records of oil&gas fields in Asia
- research papers on industry mergers & acquisitions
- proceedings from conferences on horizontal drilling techniques.
This was in the days before the internet, so you needed people with skills in searching databases in remote universities around the world
But it wasn’t just petrochemicals. If anything in life was worth knowing, Caroline knew it
- the best places to eat in Wellington, the hidden secrets of the city
- the most thoughtful French Films
- the best shopping, the best gifts for others, the best handbags
Coffee at the library
- Caroline introduced me to the addictive delights of strong, black coffee. We’d sit at morning break and chat about life.
- I was a similar age as her daughter Vanessa and son Simon, and she happily shared their adventures, accomplishments and young adult struggles, in return for hearing out my own!
- Caroline spoke with the kind of light irreverence for her family’s foibles that indicates a deep pride & love.
The best pie
After I got cancer, about 18 months ago, Caroline contacted me to wish me well. I had written on my blog about how I needed to put on weight, and was on a quest to find the best pie in wellington. Who else would reply, but Caroline! She recommended a particular cafe she knew of on the Terrace, who she said made the best pies - and that she & I should have a “pie date” there one day soon.
A shared difficulty
It was only a few weeks after that, Caroline wrote to me again, saying that she too had been diagnosed with cancer. Over next few months she’d have many tests and an intensive chemotherapy regime.
The pie date
- she had soup, and I had a pie
- she wore a wig from chemo - which was, of course, impeccably stylish
- (only Caroline could carry herself through chemo like that, with such amazing grace).
- but what I remember from these times with Caroline was the humour. the smiles, the laughter.
- We swapped stories on the chemo, the doctors, the scans – but these weren’t grim conversations, with Caroline there were jokes, and clever quips, and warm smiles.
- Caroline would never swear (not to me at least!), but there was a knowing smile and a sparkle in her eyes when she told me that the actual name of her chemo drug was: F.U. She certainly thought so.
Dignity & decency
Over the next few months, Caroline’s condition deteriorated, and her outlook worsened, but her good humour and her amazing grace shone brightly.
Caroline planning all the proceedings for her funeral, from the MC, to the readings, the hymns and her final song. She selected this poem to be read at her funeral, by her son Simon, and I’m going to share it with you tonight. It reminds me of the qualities Caroline exemplified.
Under Mt St Bathans
by Brian Turner
There is majesty in the mass.
Light moves, tints the snow;
the wind shakes the sparse grasses;
water runs, stones rattle unexpectedly
and the land speaks:
None of us are greatly different,
we’re ordinary more than extraordinary
most of the time. And if there’s one word
for what the sun highlights on the hills,
one word that we should apprehend
and make our own, it is
decency; and, what’s ever implacable,
and what stone has irreducibly,
dignity.