yesterday we said our last goodbye to stephen as we laid him to rest at the pinnaroo valley memorial park. i had spoken to him about what he wanted for his funeral in the weeks leading up to his death and i can honestly say that more love went into his funeral than any other i have ever arranged in all my years at the funeral homes i worked in.
he wanted it to be simple. no fuss. just family and some friends, celebrating his life. no misery and as many laughs as we could muster. with oliveta's samoan background, a body would normally be taken to the family home for a few days where all of us would sleep around the body and spend time with it, but he didn't want that. instead, the night before all of our family gathered together at the funeral home with his open coffin and each spoke about what he meant to us. it was a beautiful, special and an intimate final time for all of us. we had also gone as an immediate family a few days earlier to dress him before he was placed in his coffin.
after our time on thursday evening, when we closed the coffin, dominique deliberately left one of the coffin screws slightly off centre, just to annoy him one more time. it entertained us all to no end when the coffin arrived at the chapel which was the best part.
at the funeral service we had a lot of family input. madeline sang a prelude item, "i feel my saviours love" and then spoke during the service.
God
saw you were getting tired
and
when a cure was not to be
He
wrapped his arms around you
and
whispered “come to me”
Hi my name is Madeline and I loved my poppy very
much. He has been sick for a very long time, but he always had time to laugh
with my brothers and I.
On New Year’s Eve, our family went to the hospital
to have a party with poppy. We had so much fun, we listened to ACDC, popped
party poppers, had glow sticks, ate pizza, drank sparkling juice and played
games. It was the best!
I’m so glad we got to spend that last time with him
before we said goodbye. I miss him so much, but I know he’s not sick anymore,
so I’m happy for him.
I am going to read a little poem to remember him with.
It’s called “Miss Me But Let Me Go.”
When
I come to the end of the road
And
the sun has set for me
I
want no tears in a gloom-filled room
Why
cry for a soul set free?
Miss
me a little-but not too long
And
not with your head bowed low
Remember
the laughs that we once shared
Miss
me-but let me go
For
this is a journey that we all must take
And
each must go alone.
It's
all part of the Master's plan
A
step on the road back home
When
you are lonely and sad in your heart
With
time, things get better, you know
Remember
me, as you laugh each day
Miss
me but let me go
I
love you Poppy and I’ll never forget you.
I
promise Joseph and I will tell Alex all about you.
Love,
Maddie.
In
the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.
i sang "where can i turn for peace?" which i somehow made it through... who knows how, but i felt so good being able to do one more thing for him.
douglas gave the eulogy, which was just right. it explained him perfectly, which helped a lot of people who hadn't ever been able to get to know him the way we had.
For those of you who don't know my wife Jade, she worked for many years as a funeral director. I remember she once told me that a funeral is just like a wedding. You have your flowers, your groomsmen (or in this case, your pallbearers) and the coffin is your expensive dress. So, dad - I hope you like your new dress!
Stephen Douglas Kendall
was born in Gisborne, New Zealand on the 6th of May,1954, to Evan
and Louisa Kendall. He was the oldest of three, with two younger sisters, Paula
and Wanda. He always wanted to be a truck driver, from when he was a child. His
mother wasn’t impressed with that and told him he had better go and learn a
trade, so he became a carpenter. When he was 25 he travelled to Western Samoa
for work, for Craig Construction. He loved the island life and became
comfortable there, even finding himself a wife! Mum and Dad were married and I
arrived in 1980. We moved back to NZ when I was still a baby – then became a
family of 4 when my sister Dominique arrived in 1989. On the move again, we
moved to Brisbane in 1991, dad first, to set us up and then the rest of us
joined him.
Life was good to him
there, we built a family home and he was working as a spreader driver for
Allens Asphalt. Dad lived and breathed for that place. He loved his trucks and
he loved his job. When we contacted Brad Allen a few weeks back to let him know
about dad he wrote back something I’d love to share: "Your Dad was the most loyal and hard working out of all the
people who have ever worked for me and he was only one of two employees who
passed the 10 year mark. I miss those years at Allens we had such a great crew
and plenty of fond memories. Tell him to stay positive to the end as he will
live on in his family and friends memories always."
He
was well known and liked at Allens, earning himself a great reputation amongst
the staff and the nickname “LEGEND.” His work spoke for itself, meticulously
finished, he took great pride in presenting all he did. If someone said it
couldn’t be done, he’d be off to prove them wrong.
Mum
and Dad moved to Perth in 2015, to be closer to family. Everything fell into
place piece by piece and he said that was a sure sign it was the right move. He
was happy with their new place, settled into work at Boral and was happy here
spending time with family, especially his ratbag grandkids. One of his proudest
moments was when Dominique returned from her mission and married Bryan. He said
walking her down the aisle was something he had waited his whole life for and
you couldn’t wipe the smile off his face that entire day.
As
life would have it though, things became harder for him, from that time on. He
was first diagnosed with cancer in 2012, which he overcame, only to have it
return mid 2016. This time it was harder for him, the cancer more aggressive
and he struggled to keep well. We watched him go from being the toughest bloke
we knew, to relying on others, which he hated, as it got worse and worse. He
was admitted to hospital time and time again, with the doctors baffled by how
things progressed. But, it was his time. He was admitted for a final time in
late November, moved to the Palliative Room on New Years Eve, where we began
the new year as a family, and he left us on January 3rd. He fought
so hard to stay, made all kinds of plans for the future, but it just wasn’t to
be. Mum, my sister and I were so lucky to be able to be with him as he took his
final breaths. We know of the promise of our family being sealed for eternity
and take comfort in knowing we will one day be together again.
Although
he wasn’t able to attend church much over the past few years due to his
illness, he knew of the truth of the gospel. We found a piece of paper in his
room after he passed that read, FAITH: to be sure of the things we hope for, to
be certain of the things we cannot see. Well dad, we cannot see you any longer,
but I am certain you have gone to a better place. A place where you are whole
again, and can finally get back to work.
Dad
was so fiercely independent, he hated not being able to work. He often lamented
that he felt useless and just wanted to “get back to it.” We wanted that for
you dad. He was so proud of his family, he would always tell us how proud he
was of all we did, but wasn’t afraid to tell us when we were being tools
either.
Dad was a proud and
hardworking man, with a love for three things: classic rock, anything with an
engine and bad jokes.
His facebook profile
“about me” still reads: I like rock music. Real rock. Not that modern crap. He
loved to spend his days listening to his rock, but his all-time favourite was
his precious AC/DC. He loved Bon Scott and was so excited when we showed him
his special memorial area at the Fremantle Cemetery and his statue at the
Fremantle Fishing Boat Harbour. During his final weeks, his greatest joy was
listening to music on his portable speaker just loud enough to not receive
noise complaints from other members of the hospital ward. Music was life to
him. Back in his younger days he could be found listening to his music
collection or playing a guitar. He had a very extensive collection of music,
all rock.
Dad’s dream was always
to own a Harley Davidson motorbike. It’s all he ever wanted. But every time the
opportunity arose, he always found somewhere else the money was needed. He was
forever putting our family first. We’ve found a way to make his dream come true
today as he will be escorted on his final journey by two nice and loud
motorbikes as we make our way to the Pinnaroo Valley Memorial Park.
Back in his younger
years he restored quite a few vehicles and brought them back to life. He took
great delight in telling us that a few of them were purchased by members of the
mongrel mob in New Zealand. He just loved grease and petrol and keeping his
hands busy. In the final weeks of his life, he went downhill so quickly,
becoming so weak and I know the thing that hurt the most was no longer being
able to use his hands. He struggled knowing he had always been able to keep
busy, doing things all the time and hated relying on others to do everything
for him.
Our family will forever
be thankful for the team at Sir Charles Gairdner Hospital for the amazing care
he received. Their staff on his ward are truly the best of the best. They
always had kind words for dad, a smile and stacks of extra jelly in every
colour. The nurses loved dad, he would joke with them and mess about. “Mr
Kendall, How are you today?” “Ugh, not again.” “Mr Kendall did you have any
other questions?” “Yes. Do these windows open?”
Dad, my life will not
be the same without you in it. You were my greatest friend and the one person
who was always ready with a joke, mostly at my expense. I know you were so
proud of me and I’ll always try to live up to that. We all miss you, but know
that you’re somewhere, probably having a jam with Bon Scott or working on another
car.
We’d like to leave you
today with dad’s favourite joke. It’s terrible, barely funny and straight up silly,
but we promised we would tell it one last time.
A duck walks into a bar
and asks the barman, “got any bread?”
“No?” says the barman
Next day the duck comes
back and asks the barman again, “got any bread?”
“No” says the barman
The next day he comes
in again. “Got any bread?”
“NO,” says the barman.
“Now get out here before I nail your beak to the bar!”
“Got any nails?” asked
the duck.
“No,” says the
bartender.
“Got any bread?”
*******************************
as you read above - steve's whole life, all he wanted was a harley. he had spoken to us about it time and time again, and then something would always come up and it would go on the back burner again. for this reason, i wanted to make his dream a reality as we said goodbye to him. i contacted a local charity motorcycle club in a wild hope that they would possibly be able to help us by sending two of their members to escort him on his finally journey. to my absolute amazement they said yes! and were there with two shining harleys at the end of the service. nothing made me more emotional the whole day than watching them ride away escorting him.
stephen's escort on the way to pinnaroo cemetery.
when we arrived at the grave, they waited for our pallbearers to carry the coffin across and then made a lot of noise as they rode away leaving us to have our burial. it was a perfect tribute.
stephens pallbearers were:
douglas (son)
bryan (son-in-law)
james (douglas's best friend, from childhood and still)
stephen (a friend from church who was there for him particularly at the end)
salevana (brother-in-law)
gerard (a cousin)
at the conclusion of the graveside service, dominique and i draped the lace cloth that had been covering his coffin over his coffin in the grave. it was a beautiful moment for us and looked really lovely to those who were there. we also threw pieces of asphalt into the grave which was such a cute goodbye, knowing that that had been such a huge piece of his life. we had also asked him to pick the songs for this part of the service and we had "back in black" by acdc, (we had to talk him out of highway to hell hahah), "old man" by neil young and he had jokingly told us he wanted "macho man" by the village people, so we did that too. i am sure he would have had a giggle about it.
(update - february 2020
we ended up selling stephen's car to his friend stephen from church and he told us a couple of days later that instead of throwing his piece of asphalt into the grave, he had slipped it into his pocket instead. it is now in the side pocket in the car and he gets to ride around with him all day every day. we thought that was so special.)
it was such a special day and truly the perfect goodbye. we were so grateful to have had so many family members here with us, even if that is what delayed the funeral taking place sooner. it was worth the wait. one of the most special parts was watching baby alexander james hanging out with his uncle james. i'm so glad they had the chance to meet, even in a time like this.
