A Remembrance Service for Richard took place in March 2008 at St John's Church in Rownhams

   

Close family and friends gathered to remember Ricky, to enjoy one of his  favourite pieces of music The Lark Ascending and to listen to this poem:

   

If I be the first of us to die,
Let grief not blacken long your sky.
Be bold yet modest in your grieving. There is a change but not a leaving.
For just as death is part of life,
The dead live on forever in the living.
And all the gathered riches of our journey,
The moments shared, the mysteries explored,
The steady layering of intimacy stored,
The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,
The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,
The wordless language of look and touch,
The knowing, Each giving and each taking,
These are not flowers that fade,
Nor trees that fall and crumble,
Nor are they stone,
For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand
And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.
What we were, we are. What we had, we have.
A conjoined past imperishably present.
So when you walk the wood where once we walked together
And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow,
Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,
And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,
And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,
Be still.
Close your eyes. Breathe.
Listen for my footfall in your heart.
I am not gone but merely walk within you.

   

Afterwards his ashes were buried in the churchyard in a beautiful spot under a tree.
      

Richard's funeral and a celebration of his life took place on Thursday 21st December at Southampton Crematorium.

 

Journey for a Soul by George Appleton read by Felicity Streatfeild at the service:
        
On the day when death will knock at my door what shall I offer him, either in the closing minutes of this life or in the opening minutes of my new birth in the life beyond?
Oh, I will set before Him all the love I have received and given, all the insights of truth that I have gathered, all the things I have valued and enjoyed, all the tasks completed or left for others, all my gratitude and love for the past, all my content in the present and my hope for the future.
Above all I will offer my recognition of the Lord who has come in the guise of death, to lead me to the home He has prepared for me.
  
When the time comes when my links with earth grow weaker, when my powers fail, when I must bid farewell to dear ones still rooted in this life with their tasks to fulfil and their loved ones to care for, when I must detach myself from the loveliest things and begin the lonely journey.
Then shall I hear the voice of my beloved Christ, saying ' It is I, be not afraid'.
So with my hand in His, from the dark valley I shall see the shining City of God and climb with quiet trusting steps and be met by the Father of souls and clasped in the everlasting arms.
  

Read by Mike Streatfeild at the service:

 

Not, how did he die, but how did he live?

Not, what did he gain, but what did he give?

These are the units to measure the worth

Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

Not, what was his church, nor what was his creed?

But had he befriended those really in need?

Was he ever ready, with word of good cheer?

To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?

Not, what did the sketch in the newspaper say,

But how many were sorry when he passed away?

 

Poem by W H Auden read at the service:

 

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

 

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

 

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

 

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing now can ever come to any good.

 

A tribute from Pam & Brian Batchelor, read at the service:

 

A dearly loved son-in-law

But first our thanks to Carole and Don for bringing Richard into our world, we can never thank them enough.

Richard was an open, loving, honest person who was admired by everyone. In the last days of his life he was so brave and dignified and we wept as we watched him struggling to stay with us all.

We have so many happy memories of him. We must think of these and enjoy them.

Richard’s passion for motorcycles, cars and planes and his great knowledge of them was phenomenal, but never mention the dreaded idea of sending a car to a ‘garage’ to him – it was like a red rag to a bull.

He was also a lover of nature. There were not many questions he couldn’t answer. Mind you whenever he saw a squirrel sitting on the fence he would have loved to take a pot-shot at it, but sorry Ricky, no gun!

He loved a good bonfire, in fact we called him a pyromaniac. We remember him throwing logs onto Paul’s chimenea and great flames coming out of the top. How he laughed when Paul looked on in an anxious way.

Richard’s enthusiasm for life, was just like him, amazing.

It has been such a privilege to have known and loved him.

We all miss you so much Richard.

Good night, God Bless.