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Good morning everyone…. and welcome. Today we gather to honor and to celebrate the life of Garrick Morse. Garry was a son and brother, a husband and father, a grandfather - and to all who knew him - a friend. Though his words were few, his heart was huge... and his contributions, many. A man of great compassion and caring, Garry did everything in his power to improve the lives of the people around him. Because of his natural talent for mending things both tangible and subtle, people in distress were always drawn to Garry for help and for healing. Instinctively perhaps, they recognized Garry’s rare gift for providing practical solutions and loving support without the unnecessary burden of judgement. Such a source of unwavering love and stability was Garry that his son, Josh, referred to him as the “bedrock” of the family. --------------------------------------------------------- At this time, Josh would like to share a few thoughts and recollections with us about his fathers’ life and character: (EULOGY) --------------------------------------------------------- Thank you Josh. And now if anyone else has something from their own perspective they’d like to add about Garry’s life and what he meant to them, please feel free to step forward and share your thoughts with us now. (GROUP SHARINGS) ---------------------------------------------------------- I encourage each one of you to cherish the gifts that Garrick gave you and to grow from them. What Garry wanted most for people was that they live the biggest life they had inside them. Whatever you take away from having known him, if you use it towards this end – to fulfill your dreams and your own great potential – you’ll be helping Garry fulfill his own as well. Garrick’s wife, April, describes her husband as a “huge believer in circle healing" and shamanic principles. Ever the pragmatist, Garry stopped short of claiming to know for certain what lay beyond this life and world, but spiritually he was very open to the possibilities. It seems he quietly embraced the mystery of his coming journey with the same optimism he showed in life. When his loved ones seemed to wonder or worry what life would be like with him gone, he would reassure them with a casual, “Oh, I’ll be around." More recently, when needing reassurance of his own, he asked April, “We’re meeting in the Summerland, right?” and she replied, “Yes, we’ll meet. We’ll meet again in the Summerland.” Perhaps it was this desire to remain connected to others that mattered most to Garry. I am told that one of Garry’s biggest wishes and concerns before he passed was that all his sons and daughters would stay close and maintain the strong ties of this family he helped create. In recognition of what Garry no doubt considered to be his greatest accomplishment, I’d like to invite his children - Josh, Nathan, Tiffany, and Murryha - and their partners, as well as the two granddaughters, to form a circle around Garrick’s casket. In holding hands with one another as you say goodbye to this man, you are affirming that he is an essential part of what binds you all together... and each of you is part of the bridge that carries his spirit, his gifts and his wisdom into the future. As you continue to hold the space around your father, husband, and grandfather, I will read a poem to honor Garrick and the journey upon which he now embarks. It’s called , “The Island of the West”. (The following poem by Starhawk is excerpted from "The Pagan Book of Living and Dying".): The time has come to say goodbye to all who’ve loved you here. Give back your body to the earth like a child to its mother’s breast, And may you then grow young again on the Island of the West. Lay down, lay down your burdens, lay down your treasures too. The love you gave and gathered is all you take with you, But know to me your memory will evermore be blessed, And may you then grow young again on the Island of the West. They say there is an orchard across the farthest sea. Where fruit and bud and blossom grow together on the tree. The hurt will there find healing, the weary there find rest, And may you then grow young again on the Island of the West." Finally, in observance of Garry’s explicit and repeated requests, we will be playing a rather unconventional song for him at this service. ;) It’s called the “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” by the Charlie Daniels Band. For those of you who aren’t familiar with the song, it tells the story of a young fiddler who gets challenged to a duel by the devil himself. Because of his expert skill, audacious ego, and total lack of fear, this mortal man takes on the most terrifying force imaginable, and WINS. Now it could just be that Garry loved the songs feisty lyrics and burnin’ fiddle playin’ so much he wanted to hear it one last time. Having heard from all of you about the strength and goodness of Garry’s character, however, I’m guessing he no doubt embraced the spirit of this song as well – that impossibility is an illusion – and that excellence and optimism can surmount any challenge. So I hope you all will clap along to the music as we send Garry off - with a golden fiddle in his hand.... :) (Garry's song plays us out as friends and family clap and sing along.) Click link to hear a sound clip of "The Devil Went Down to Georgia":
Good afternoon, and thank you all for joining us here today as we honor the life and spirit of a powerful and amazing young woman: Jasmine Roberts. Our condolences go out to her immediate family, in particular – her father, Jim – her mother, Mary – and her two brothers, Jeremiah and J.R.. Jasmine was one of the most unique and remarkable people anyone here will ever have the pleasure of knowing. Her father, Jim, summed up the impact of this week in these words, “Some of us lost a daughter, some of us lost a sister, but ALL of us lost a friend.” And she WAS a friend to everyone – a problem-solver with an unhesitating supply of generosity towards others – “She was always helping someone,” said her father, “If she couldn’t find an animal, she’d find a person. Usually, both.” They "broke the mold" when they made Jasmine. She was talented and sexy…. thoughtful and smart. She loved nature and animals - loved spending time outdoors from a very young age. Jasmine had an eye for beauty and form, and would spend hours taking pictures of one sunset after another trying to capture the complex and fleeting beauty of the world around her. She was a tomboy and a competitor, too, with a will to be the best in every challenge she undertook. She could do anything as well as any man, and she made sure people knew it. But she was every bit a woman, as well. She loved to dance and didn’t care how much she made the old ladies blush when she did it. :) Like a true force of nature, Jasmine was versatile but always authentic. She was blunt -- but never in a malicious way. She just didn’t know any other way of being than the honest one. Her heart was open and giving, and she always wore her personality on her sleeve. Jasmine was a joy for those lucky enough to have had her in their lives. With that, I’d like to offer you all this image.... “A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam. And for a brief moment its glory and beauty belong to our world. But then it flies on again, and though we wish it could have stayed, we feel so lucky to have caught a glimpse.” This prayer we offer up on Jasmine's behalf comes from "The Pagan Book of Living and Dying" by Starhawk.... Healer, healer, heal her pain. In love may she return again. We are dark and we are bright we are formed of earth and light. From joy and pain our lives are spun, but all too soon the spinning’s done. Weaver, weaver, weave her thread, whole and strong into your web. Healer, healer, heal her pain. In love may she return again. No one knows why we are born. A web is made, a web is torn. Like wandering seabirds we alight, to rest a moment then take flight. Weaver, weaver, weave her thread, whole and strong into your web. Healer, healer, heal her pain. In love may she return again. May she find the hidden way beyond the gates of night and day, to that sweet land where apples grow and endless healing waters flow. Weaver, weaver, weave her thread, whole and strong into your web. Healer, healer, heal her pain. In love may she return again. At that spring may she drink deep and wake to dream and die to sleep, and dreaming spin another form, a shining thread of life reborn." And in the spirit of that cycle of life that we know Jasmine will always be a part of, we have brought some wildflower seeds for those nearest and dearest to her to strew as a memorial. Take these sachets home with you, hold them and reminisce over every happy memory you have of Jasmine. Keep it for days or months if you like, and when you’re ready, venture out to some gorgeous wild place that Jasmine would have loved and scatter these seeds in honor of her wild and beautiful soul. Jasmine’s brother, J.R., would now like to close with a poem he has written on this very theme.... "A spring sun rises in the east, shining a light of life beneath. Fair flower sips at its presence, filling it with nature’s essence. Summer sings as she does full bloom, all who smell her cannot but swoon. Not hardly annual, she be, but perennial like oak tree. Fall arrives and seeds number none, before prime plucked and song unsung. On her root stock she must rely, to prevent the end though she lie. Winter comes with frost much too strong, but not ‘nough to silence her song. We the root stock keep memory how she in summer bloom would be. Never will she be always gone, await the season, sing her song." It is naturally a very sad time when someone we care about passes away. When that person is bright and beautiful, generous and talented; the world itself experiences that person’s passing as a deep and profound loss. And when their life is interrupted in the vibrancy of its best days, it is bitterly unfair. Having acknowledged that, I think it would be a grave mistake to measure Alisa’s life by counting it in years. Instead, let us count her friends, let us count her adventures, and let us try, if we even can, to count the many gifts she offered in everything she did and to everyone she met. The true measure of anyone’s life is its quality not its quantity. And that is why we have come here today to remember and celebrate the FULLNESS of Lisa’s life. This is our chance to recall with smiles and laughter, if we can, the outstanding person Alisa was, and to give thanks for the ways she touched and made better so many lives around her for 32 years -- and counting. Friends and family describe Alisa as scientific, driven,and determined. She seemed to be able to unlock the secrets of any challenge, instantly, even if she’d never encountered the challenge before. She was a no-nonsense, highly competent individual, with total confidence in herself, who usually turned out to be right about most things. Because of her broad interests in science, Alisa was ecologically-minded and health conscious, setting high standards for both herself and those around her. But perhaps the rarest part of Alisa’s personality, given today’s world, was how generous she was with her time. Alisa knew how to maintain her relationships with people, and she made it a priority to stay in touch with everyone. When she traveled, she would make a point of visiting of all the people she knew along the route. Even when she was late for an appointment or had a million other things to do, Alisa would set aside quality time for her loved ones and the things that mattered most, and time would obediently stretch to accommodate her. Alisa began life as the daughter of Kyra and Tim Whitford, and sister to Sarah with whom she was very close in age. Born in the small, rural town of Yoncalla, Oregon, Alisa’s academic success and all-around athleticism led her to pursue a degree in Exercise and Movement Science at the University of Oregon. After graduating, Alisa embarked on a whirlwind tour of the world. While adventuring in New Zealand, Alisa became friends with a young man named Trent. For the remainder of her vacation there, Trent would be her travel partner, exploring the countryside with her and further connecting her to the heart of the local community. After returning to Oregon, Alisa, as was her practice, stayed in contact with Trent. Four years later he visited the U.S. and asked Alisa to come back to New Zealand with him. Having adored New Zealand and the people she met there, Alisa was more than happy to say yes. A year later, Alisa gave birth to a beautiful son named Chase. Four days later she was diagnosed with terminal cancer and told she had between two and four months to live. She was advised to move straight into hospice care. Alisa had a different plan. Even the way she faced her death was in keeping with the Alisa so many people knew - pragmatic and in-charge right up to the last minute. Alisa disregarded the doctors sentence, choosing, instead, to shape her own fate beyond what seemed humanly possible. With willpower, intelligence and that uncanny ability to solve any problem set before her – not to mention the generous and willing support of her now vast network of friends – Alisa managed to stretch a two-month prognosis into almost 2 years. Any mother knows how precious that extra time was. Alisa got to watch her son grow, see his first steps, hear his first words, and imprint herself forever upon his heart. She had time to get to know him as a person. That’s not a tragedy – that’s a triumph. On March 28th, Alisa and Trent were married in a fairytale setting with friends from all over the globe in attendance. She passed on April 13th, just two weeks later. It’s as if death itself was forced to make allowances when Lisa said, “I have a better idea. This is how we’re gonna do it.” By surrendering only when her life felt complete – when it had reached a kind of zenith – and not a moment sooner, Alisa managed to freeze the most precious moments of her life forever in time. That is a rare accomplishment, and I see nothing but victory in it. Now, to add a bit of levity and humor to our event, and because Alisa embodies our idea of a rational thinker, athlete and all-around champion, we have invited her high school basketball coach and math teacher, Cheryl Simons, to share a few personal anecdotes about her memories of Alisa as a teenager. Thank you, Cheryl. At this time we would like to open up to the microphone to anyone who has a fond memory or funny story to share about Alisa. I understand both Kathy Finley and Alisa’s sister, Sarah, have prepared some remarks, so we’ll begin with them. But after that anyone else who has something they’d like to say is more than welcome to come on down. Afterwards there will be a slideshow, lovingly put together by Alisa’s sister, Sarah. (OPEN MIC) (SLIDE SHOW) MEMORY STONE CEREMONY: Say,“I will remember Alisa for ______________________ (fill in the blank).” Then place your stone or seashell into the beach sand surrounding Alisa's altar candle. (While guests choose their stones/shells from the basket and cue a line to the altar, PA system plays the first full verse and refrain of "She Goes On" by New Zealand band, Crowded House. Stereo fades to quiet instrumental background as first guest approaches microphone.) Hear the song:
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