A FORTUNATE TURN OF EVENTS

Something exciting has happened!  My blog partner (and cousin I found through doing genealogy on my birth family) for www.mccawscometolife.blogspot.com has found a publisher for his memoirs! We've been Skyping back and forth this morning ironing out details and celebrating.  I guess now we can each consider ourselves writers.  There is also a magazine interested in articles we have sent.  (Can't say yet until it's published - might jinx it).  You'll be the first to know, dear readers.

A tribute to my father Duncan McCaw 1913-2000

A tribute to My Father Duncan McCaw aged 86 Years old,

                                                 1913-2000

                                                                    Obituary

Duncan McCaw Peacefully on February 17^th 2000 after a long illness bravely borne, Whilst in The loving care of St Josephs Nursing home, Cleethorpes, Duncan aged 86years, reunited with his beloved wife Gwen who also passed away on February 17^th 1988,treasured dad of Peter, Suzette, Stewart, Pat and Andrew, dearest father-in-law and grandfather and a very dear and respected friend to many who will be very sad missed by everyone who knew him. Service at the Grimsby crematorium on Monday February 28^th at 1.30 pm. Resting Dedicated Chapel of Repose of Mashfords Funeral Home ,Norfolk lane, Cleethorpes, where family flowers only please, by request may be sent. Donations in lieu, if so desired may be sent to Mashford Donation account’ and the final sum will be forwarded to Dr Speed’s Haematology fund.

Death is Nothing at all

Death is nothing at all

I have only slipped into the next room

I am I, and you are you,

Whatever we were to each other

That we are still

Call me by my old familiar name,

Speak to me in the easy way

Which you always used

Put no difference in your tone,

Was no forced air of solemnity or sorrow

Laugh as we always laughed

At the little jokes we enjoyed together

Play, smile, think of me, Pray for me

Let my name be over the household word

That it always was

Let it be spoken without an effort,

Without that trace of shadow on it

Life means all that it ever meant

It’s the same as it ever was

There is absolutely unbroken continuity

What is death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind

Because I am out of sight ?

I am but waiting for you

For an interval, somewhere very near,

Just around the corner. All is well

Canon Henry Scott Holland

ADDRESS

Duncan McCaw 1913-2000

In these quiet and thoughtful moments we realise how much comfort and strength there are in our memories .They bring close those who are no longer immediately with us and remind us of so many precious and personal things.

Today in this service we express memories and thoughts of Duncan with respect and appreciation. Moreover though faith and in God we are taken beyond our memories into a living hope of being in and with Christ in the Kingdom of the heavenly father in the peace and mercy of the life everlasting.

We thank God for all that made Duncan ‘s life special and all that fills the heart of peter, Suzette, Stewart, Pat and Andy with pride to sat that he was their dad. Proud because Duncan was just the man he was, an Antrim man from Currysheskin, an Ulsterman and an Irishman. The son of Charlie McCaw the celebrated North Antrim lay preacher, Duncan grew up with the strength and purpose and the humour of rural North Antrim. He never forgot his roots, his love for that rugged coastline and it’s villages, farms and fields, and the principles .scrupled ,discipline and values of those rural communities shaped the boy and the man throughout his life. Dad was “Mr Dependable “,a gentleman, what was in his power  to give he would give , and give generously, as he did when seeing the good in all. Our thoughts are with you and Avis, Ricky Sue, Steve, and Christine and grandchildren, John, Teresa, Clive, Jane, Lee, Nina, Lloyd, Ross, Luke, Christopher, Joanne and Kate. Our prayers are also with Duncan’s family in Ireland and North America.

Together we celebrate his life and honour his achievements.

We remember his love for Gwen and their life to together, which was never dull, and neither was it sedentary, how it could be with Duncan’s passion for moving house. During one 12 year period, Duncan and Gwen moved house 13 times, sometimes to the other side of the road! I wonder if it was a world record when Duncan moved twice from the same house in the course of the same year!..

No wonder the first Christmas card he would receive each year was from Ernest Jones the Estate agent! Within the home Duncan was a real handyman and decorator, turning his hand to all manner of jobs and tasks, particularly he enjoyed knocking walls down, whether they needed knocking down or not. Usually when the last improvement was made, the for sale notice would go up. He was also a good gardener, with a love for roses that he introduced to many places, not least to Matthew Quinn House where they will be admired and enjoyed by many for years to come. He loved the outdoors and if there was just a hint of sunshine to be found, Duncan would find it and enjoy. There will be fond memories of holidays and foursomes at Yarmouth, with his good pal Lewis and respective wives, and the Channel Islands.

Duncan worked hard all his life in a full working life, that started on the family farm ,and then in the construction industry for kiers, and finally for many years in the firm of his brother in law in the world of industrial painting .he worked on some major projects like the Humber Bridge, Duncan was a fit and strong man, a keen cyclist all his life ,well perhaps that doesn’t do him justice, as he was one of the foremost cyclists in the whole of Ireland in the days before the war, competing and winning trophies in national competitions. He was, as was noticed by the local Antrim newspaper The chronicle, a bit of a daredevil. The newspaper ran a piece on him when he returned home for a spell in 1995 that recounted how in his younger days he rode across and back the Carrick-a –Rede a narrow rope bridge spanning a 100 foot drop, to the cheers of the gathered crowd. The paper said like as not he would have done it again on his old bike and in his eighties, f the bridge if the bridge was still as it was! This courage was not lacking either, when in the last few years he has been fighting illness without complaint and with great dignity in his pain and suffering.

In all these ways we remember the quality of the man and the joyfulness of his life.

There is a rabbinic story that related how a man had lost his way in a desert. Starving and suffering from sunstroke he fortuitously came across an oasis in the midis tog which stood a beautiful tree. He ate some of its succulent fruit sat in the protective shade beneath its boughs and then fell fast asleep .When he arose, rejuvenated and refreshed, his indebtedness moved him to bless the tree, but what blessing could he give? The tree was already endowed with every possible attribute .A thought then crossed his mind .Turning to the tree ,he said 2may it be the will of God that all your offshoots will be just like you “.

Your trust tribute to Duncan and to his memory is to strive to be like him in spirit and courage and to bless him is to strive to put your faith in the God revealed in Christ who makes all things new .For in Him there is a darkness or death, but light and the peace and rest of eternal life, to which we commend Duncan with love and thanksgiving.

Reverend klm nally 28.02.00

Don’t look for me in the graveyards

Don’t look for me in the graveyards

Where despairing cherubs stand

Nor where the desolate funeral pyre

Sheds ashes over the land

 NO. Look for me in the fiery rage

Of a storm tossed sunset at sea.

I’II be very close when you run the page

Of the book that was close to me

Look for me in the evening, breeze,

The raging lightning’s gleam.,

I’II be the ray of moonlight

This kisses your face as you dream

 I’II be the laughing shadow

This passes the willow tree.

 I’II call you from the river

As it laughs its was to the sea

I’II be the flash of white wings

 As the bird scream overhead

I’LL be in all the little things

Which pass through your grieving head.

But don’t look for me in sad thoughts

or dreary tales of woe.

I’LL be in the wind, the sky, the sea

With you wherever you go.

Look for me in the first star of evening

In the slow dawn smile of the sun

I’II be the red gold leaves and dreams

Which once we ran among

I’LL be there in the first snow shower

When white lace spiders’ webs grace the sill

Look for me in warmth of the fire light

When the earth lies cold and still

My shadow will race with the squirrels

My laughter will startle the jays

And my dreams be all butterflies

Which follow your summer day

I’LL call from the geese flying homeward

You’II glimpse me on distant hills

And my love for you will be constant

As the early daffodils

So look for me in rainbow or the sunset’s dreamy haze

Just smile-and I will be with you to the laughing end of your days….

                            ( Daphne Silver )

Duncan is still deeply missed, and always will be. Stewart McCaw and family

BMDshare.

BMDshare

Sharon's Genealogy Adventures Blog

I will continue to be involved with this blog for the McCaws, but I've created a blog where I can post every day.  It will contain, first of all, more detail of how I came to know I was a McCaw and, secondly, my adventures in geneology - both my adoptive parents' and my birth parents',  and helping others.  My wish is that my readers will be encouraged and also learn from my "oops" moments and my triumphs.  You may read it all at  Sharon's Adventures in Genealogy