FAMILY LAWRENCE

 

 

Hilda Mary JOHNSON

 

Vital Statistics

 

Born:

12th January 1923

 

 

Married 1:

 

 

Ronald Simpson

Married 2:

 

 

Kenneth Johnson

Died:

15th September 2010

Shrubbery Nursing Home, Shrubbery Avenue, Worcester

 

 

 

Eulogy given by Peter Hinton at Hildaís funeral, 27th September 2010.

 

Hilda Ė her very name gives us an insight to who she was.

 

H was for happy

I was for independent

L was for learned

D was dignified

A was for absolute

 

Her happiness was to live her life, with the least amount of inconvenience to anyone else. Her happiness was the care and love that she bestowed upon her family, her brothers, and also her two late husbands, and she cherished the time she spent with those within her circle of friends especially her life long friendship with Margery and Mary. She loved her cats, she was a County champion at table tennis and she was a prolific knitter. Working through the church and its charities, she knitted hundreds of colourful jumpers and sweaters and sent them to needy children in Africa.

 

Her fierce independence gave her the ability to totally manage her affairs, without the help or guidance from others, until the last few weeks of her life.

 

Hilda was very intelligent, this was entirely evident in the way she would engage you in conversation. She was fun to be with, a sort of tongue in cheek humour that was most endearing.The way she would make some comment and then smile through those raised eyebrows, a sort of cheeky grin; quite lovely really. She was also very learned, she gave a long and distinguished service to the MOD: it was her whole life until she retired.

 

Even in the worst of times she remained dignified, right up to the point where eventually she succumbed to the disease that ravaged her.

 

Her absolution was her unrestricted, unconditional complete and perfect beauty; no disease or the ravage of time could ever taker her beauty away. Beneath all that was visible she was simply stunning.

 

Hilda was always in total command of her life and her one concession in this was to allow her nieces to become her deputies during the final days, to let them manage her affairs, to trust them with her final needs and wishes. She even let me into her life during her illness. On Saturday afternoons I would visit her and we would laugh and joke and we would share egg custards from M&S, which she loved. I would often tease her with talk of going clubbing or dancing. However, Iím glad that I didnít challenge her to table tennis! I believe I became her Saturday toy boy Ö

 

I know she is eternally grateful to her nieces; she would be equally grateful to Shrubbery Nursing Home where she spent the last weeks of her life. Here she was taken care of with respect and dignity by all the staff. Hilda would have wanted me to thank all of you for making her passing peaceful and without pain.

 

I know Hilda would also want me to thank everyone for being part of her life, in good times and bad. Now she is at rest and reunited with her family and her beloved brothers Harold and Philip. Her parting gift to us all is that love remains with us in all its pureness in our hearts and minds, forever.

 

 

Ode to Hilda (Lawrence) Johnson
Days Like These

 

Sun rays dance upon the water

Laughter echoes through the trees

Sunday frolics on the river

How wonderful are days like these.

 

Just because you are my brother

Take us with you as your crew

I can show you what Iím made of

I can row as well as you!

 

So who is captain of this vessel?

Who decides her destiny?

Spirit free and full of wonder

Thereís no doubt it must be me.

 

Onward on our great adventure

All day long to be afloat

Carefree times to always cling to

Oh how much I love this boat.

 

Life is short but days are shorter

Just as life they come and go

Then how long our days we wonder

Do we really want to know?

 

Sunset falls and no more sparkle

Distant fading light she sees

No more laughter on the river

Only thoughts of days like these.

 

Peter J Hinton 2010

 

 

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Everything on earth has its own time and its own season.

There is a time for birth and death, planting and reaping,

for killing and healing, destroying and building,

for crying and laughing, weeping and dancing,

for throwing stones and gathering stones, embracing and parting.

There is a time for finding and losing, keeping and giving,

for tearing and sewing, listening and speaking.

There is also a time for love and hate, for war and peace.

 

 

 

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