Before I start I’d just like to say that Eric talked me into doing this, he had a way about him that when he asked someone to do something for him it was difficult tosay no. Eric was born in 1930 to loving parents, in his own words I really loved my mum and dad. He had six brothers and two sisters, Rene, Owen, Bill, Walt, Grace, Les, Ian, and Bob, who is the only one still with us thankfully.
My first meeting with Eric (I can’t get used to calling him Billy) was well over twenty years ago when we went to buy a Christmas tree for the vicarage from the nursery at the top of Bordean Hill. That was Eric’s domain. I remember that he was very good at choosing an appropriate tree and making the sale in his usual straightforward manner. We must have been satisfied for we went back to Eric every Christmas until the nursery closed. Eric loved and took great pride in the nursery over the thirty years he ran it. He was, as we have heard, a good neighbour to the patients and staff at the Sue Ryder Home at Bordean House. It is very fitting that the nurses of the Rosemary Foundation, which was conceived at Bordean House back in 1997, were able to care for Eric and to be a good neighbour to him during his final illness.
Eric liked order, discipline and detail. You could see that in his garden, and in his ornaments at Barrow Hill Cottage! He planned this service, well in advance, choosing music, hymns and reading. But we have added a little to it. I don’t think he will mind.
The bible reading we listened to is so appropriate for someone whose life was spent mainly out of doors, as was the case with Eric. We heard about God’s care for everything he has made, down to the details. He clothes the beautiful lilies of the field; he provides for us and tells us not to be anxious. I think Eric was basically a satisfied man, contented; he did not have a bucket list of things to do that he never got round to. He had a good, long and happy marriage. He never went far. He rejoiced in being out in God’s good creation, with the change of seasons, the signs of growth and colour. I am sure he liked spring, this time of year.
Most of us knew Eric as a market gardener and as a gardener. But, as we have heard, in earlier years he was a cowman. I am no agricultural expert, but I know how much farming has changed in the eighty years since Eric first went to work. Looking after cattle in the
mid-20th century would have been hard physical work, day in and day out. Eric was above all adaptable, able to turn his hand to many things.
‘All things bright and beautiful’ is a well-known hymn, sometimes sung without too much attention to the words. But it is particularly resonant and appropriate at the funeral of a countryman, since it references so many aspects of the English natural world, which Eric so much appreciated. The story goes that Fanny Alexander, who wrote the words, was inspired on a visit to the West Country, an area which Eric loved.
So today we give thanks for a father, a father-in-law, a grandfather and great-grandfather, a man proud of his large family. No one is perfect, of course, none of us is. Eric’s directness, his straightforwardness – calling a spade a spade – was sometimes difficult for others to accept. And I’m sure he could be stubborn.
Eric is one of the last of a particular generation. We lay him to rest just a few days after Easter. Easter marks the Resurrection of Jesus Christ. The presence of the living Lord assures us that there is new life beyond the grave, where sins are forgiven, and we are made perfect in God’s love. Eric was not a great church attender, but he loved this building and churchyard and he was determined to be buried here, with his wife, and close to his school and boyhood friend, the motorcyclist Ken Hall. May Eric rest in peace and rise with Christ in glory.
Reverend Terry Louden