Anderson, Beryl Jean

You were an amazing aunt and great aunt. I miss you so much Auntie B, as do all your adopted English family. You will be greatly missed. I hope you & mum are causing mayhem together.

Love you always, Amanda & Isabelle xxx

Rest in peace Beryl. Smart, creative, caring and funny, thank you for all the laughs and smiles.

The Gipsy
The haunting strains of the violin
drifted
Curling across the valley
Wisps of silken mist
Music carved out through leathered fingers
Gnarled, bony fingers, aged and stiff
under taut weathered strings
But his heart lifted to
the joyous sound
and the music played on.
He was lost again
surrendering to the passion
and love
that seeped through his fingers throbbing and pulsating
’til his mind and heart
were entwined within the music.
His gift of love
given freely and rejected.
He left the valley long ago to
dance to the crowds who gathered
round every lonely campfire
The firelight that flickered
in his black eyes, masked the
tears that lay unshed

(C) Beryl Anderson

Although we never met. I feel like we have. I loved our little FB chats. To me you are my auntie B. You don’t die just move on to another life. Enjoy yourself Auntie B with friends and family that have gone ahead of you. Xx

Beryl you are on another journey
Leaving all the struggles, forever learning

About a different world of music
Harps and angels heraldic
A sound of sacred joy
To inspire and employ
A life that is new
To give you a clue
There is no more pain
So much to gain
No more tears
And no more fears
You have reached heavens shore
A welcome, celebration much more

Leaving memories behind
Of performing arts of a kind
Of art groups, drawing
And painting
Orchid clubs and ornate shrubs
Lunches and friends
These have come to an end.

We remember them too
Great times shared with you
May the peace and love you now feel
Know you are safe and it’s real

We celebrate with you Beryl
Thank you for sharing, your wit
Smile, love of so much
Thank you Beryl
We won’t forget all you have shared
The loving way you have cared.

Lyn Gunawan

Mother – by John Lennon

Mother, you had me
But I never had you
I, I wanted you
You didn’t want me
So, I
I just got to tell you
Goodbye
Goodbye
Father, you left me
But I never left you
I needed you
You didn’t need me
So, I
I just got to tell you, mm
Goodbye
Goodbye
Children, don’t do
What I have done
I couldn’t walk
And I tried to run
So, I
I just got to tell you
Goodbye
Goodbye
Mama don’t go
Daddy come home
Mama don’t go
Daddy come home
Mama don’t go
Daddy come home
Mama don’t go
Daddy come home

(Repeat three times)

Lennon has always been my favorite singer. I could readily identify experiences and emotions that felt like shared life experiences.

So it is with this song, whenever I’ve heard it I thought immediately of my Mother and Father who and passed away in similar circumstances in May. They separated in 1977 yet remained in contact throughout the remainder of their lives. Beryl passed on Peter’s birthday!

Whilst we hadn’t been close for decades, there is an inevitable sense of family lost. We had some good times, but we also had troubled times, and the effect was undoubtedly painful for all family members.
‘
I simply hope Stephen, Peter and Beryl didn’t suffer and the care they received was comforting to them. None of them are suffering now and there is relief and gratitude for that.

I’m also grateful for the compassion and friendship shown by Mother’s friends. I know she valued that greatly.

My final thoughts are another Lennon song…I couldn’t say it any better.

My mummy’s dead
I can’t get it through my head
Though it’s been so many years
My mummy’s dead
I can’t explain
So much pain
I could never show it
My mummy’s dead

Rest in Peace.

John M Wood

Dear Aunty B, I’ll miss our chats over Facebook and your lovely comments on my pics of the kids and your stories of when you were a child. You will be truly missed. Rest in peace xx
Sarah xx

Condolences especially to John and your family as you grieve the sad passing of your beloved Mother Beryl .

And other members of Beryl’s family who loved her.

Heartfelt empathy to all.

Claudette Mogensen[ Berquez]

An artist, writer, gardener, animal lover, empath, student, theatre supporter, one-eyed Hawk, and genuinely wonderful human.

My friend B-star; kind and supportive. We had the theatre, the Hawks, The Beatles, and a love of writing.

Hopefully at peace, will be remembered with affection.

The Mayers – Phillip, Nick & Kate

Lady Bezza …a true gem, thank you for loving me for so long. Thank you for our messages and phone calls, especially when I was in the UK…McKenzie Clan sights and standing on streets you stood on as a child…also thank you for your crazy wisdom! My fondest memory will be you laughing at yourself always! Taking care of you and Stephen at the hospital towards the end of your journeys here was quite bizarre, us both saying it was meant to be and having a laugh of course!
You can finish that book now…in peace.
Rest easy Bez…love Shona xo

Gardens were self-expression for Beryl. I don’t think she could look at a pot or a seed packet and see vegetation in a plastic container or a printed paper packet. Rather, she would time shifted to the future and see people sitting under blooming shade trees or filling baskets with produce or taking in the colours in the patterns of the flower beds she had envisaged. Gardens did not need scale drawings. Gardens did not need tedious practical parameters to fence their freedom. She could see the vision. Perhaps an “edge” was needed. but that was just to guide the viewer’s eye or make the garden maintenance easier. Beryl had questions for nursery people, but sometimes it sounded like she had read, watched and thought much more than the erstwhile expert.
Physical challenges in the garden didn’t deter her. She was a worker. Her gardens in Churchill, Moe and Traralgon show a determination to achieve her vision, if not a preoccupation with engineering nuance.
As a single parent, Beryl began work again in the welfare sector. She saved and progressively finished the Churchill house that I recall originally had a “frozen in time” air, partly due to its not-quite–finished initial painting, plastering etc, but also the sort of wear and tear that growing boys normally provide, along with the passage of low-income time. She relished selecting materials and planning for the reno. The finally finished house was a tribute to her persistence. The chip heater gone- kindling was not needed for every shower. The kitchen was functional and to her taste. The place was spico- colours and textures matched and reflected her personality. You could get from bedrooms to the toilet without a roadmap. The housing commission heater had been replaced with one that made warmth. And she had just the matching contoured internal doors she’d always wanted.
Breaking away from years of bus reliance was another goal, really a necessity, for Beryl, as she increased her employment. She got her licence the independent way, with driving lessons. First car options included a Ford Fairlane of pensionable age- nice condition, she liked the look, but not the easiest bulk carrier in a parking bay. In the end it was the solid upright stance of the yellow Volvo that won her over. I recall her quiet pride in her many mobility and other achievements – new horizons at work at TAFE- students on her teaching circuit instantly recognising “Beryl’s car”. As a consultant in the car purchase, I bear responsibility- the Volvo was also erratically temperamental and chewed up batteries in its no-go starting sulks.
Later, her love of animals shows in her artwork and her lifelong yearning for dogs past.
Beryl made the best of her life for as long as she could. We can all learn from her example. Thankyou Beryl for sharing your life.
Neil