Celebrating the life of Betty Ebbs
We met on September 1st to celebrate the life of my mother, our mother, our grandmother, our friend; the generous soul we know as Betty, formally Elizabeth Emily Ebbs.
We celebrated her life and acknowledged her passing. Over the river Styx, as the Greeks would have it. As Kahlil Gibrain puts it …
before entering the sea a river trembles with fear.
She looks back at the path she has traveled,
from the peaks of the mountains, the long winding road crossing forests and villages.
And in front of her, she sees an ocean so vast,
that to enter there seems nothing more than to disappear forever.
Those who would like to read the full Eulogy are invited to contact the author. We reminisced about the extended family, meeting on family properties in the Yarra Valley.
We remembered the fifties, the local dance … and Brian. I have watched those two burn the dance floor at my cousin Alan’s twenty first and several weddings. There was no tossing Betty overhead in their middle age, but they could really Jitterbug.
We reminisced about all the people who Brian and Betty cared for over the years. We remembered how Betty imbued in us all a love of nature, numbers, letters, words, and language. The garden was a vibrant presence, a source of eggs, poultry, fruit and vegetables. We were so busy preserving fruit one Harvest Season that the priest delivered a sermon about the need for a day of rest. It may have been revenge for David locking him in Ivy Hut, we’ll never know.
We celebrated her ninetieth birthday seven months ago at Eva Tilley, where she has lived for the last five years. Even as a resident — receiving care rather than caring for others — her generous spirit and uncomplaining nature touched the staff who became her family. Many of us last saw each other at that birthday party. Betty relished the chance to spend time with her children, grandchildren, their partners and her great grandchildren, to eat cake and enjoy a cup of tea.
She knew that she was slowing down. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” she said to Wendy a week or two ago. “Mum, you have raised four children, nine grandchildren and four great grandchildren. You have cared for so many and given so much. You have done your job.”
Betty’s faith was important to her everyday of her life and more so on significant days. She looked forward to seeing her beloved Brian and darling David again. Let all of us, together, urge her forward, as she walks toward them, and to her personal and very private God.
In the words of Hy Zaret.
Lonely rivers flow
To the sea, to the sea
To the open arms of the sea.
Lonely rivers sigh
“Wait for me, wait for me”
I’ll be coming home, wait for me.”
Our mother. Betty.
A video of the author delivering the eulogy is available on request through his YouTube channel
