Eulogy For Kathleen Keyte

There are so many here today who have come to mourn the passing of Kay’s life.

Each of you holds sweet personal memories that create the composite of this gentle lady.

But there are two items today, that represent Kay in a way that I hope we can remember for the rest of our lives. Keys… and, a stone.

A simple set of keys. There is nothing significant about them. They are just keys. But there is a powerful symbolism behind this plain set of keys.

When Kay passed away, her family had the sad task of entering her home. For many of us, we know that awful, uncomfortable feeling, when we have had to take a similar journey ourselves.

But there is the other side to the journey, the journey of memories. When you truly know someone, and love them, the way Kay’s family does, you will easily be able to feel the energy that is charged into each object.

A photo on a wall, serves as a generator for memories, a pen on a desk - reminds us of letters of happiness, and sometimes sadness, - and a favourite chair beckons to its owner - to come home.

But there was more to Kay’s home. Much more. More than my own vocabulary could possibly express.

For upon the wall, neatly arranged, was an assortment of keys, that belonged to other people. These people, and no doubt – some of you are here today, had entrusted their lives, their sole possessions, to Kay. And although the words were never quite really said, the meaning, the symbolism said, very clearly, Kay, we entrust you with all we have. We’d like you to check up on us, let us know how things are. We’re going on a journey, so if you wouldn’t mind, please, could you just have a little look, a little check on things, and make sure everything is OK.

Those simple sets of keys, representing peoples lives, says so much more about Kay than we can say today. Kay was a woman who cared and nurtured friendships and life, and celebrated what is most important in our quest. Each and every day, Kay celebrated living.

We all know of the journeys Kay has taken in her life. This gentle woman, whether it was when she was working as a welder during the war, or in the hospital where she so faithfully served, was first and foremost – a lady. No matter what life threw at her, she held her head high, smiled, and carried on.

Kay’s happiness was found in her family and friends. Charlie and Geoffrey, Christine and Sandra, Gillian and Jane, and Flo, and Sally, and Jo. In fact, Kay’s wealth of friends is such that we would need a day of readers to call out the people whose lives she had touched, in her gentle and caring ways.

Those of you, who were close to Kay, knew that she had been in pain. She was so very much looking forward to her hip surgery, because she would be more free to walk along the sea front, as she so often did, with her special faithful friend, Bambi. That sweet little dog became a co-conspirator with Kay, in her quest to make people feel comfortable. But there were days when it was simply too challenging for her.
When I first met with Kay’s niece Gillian, she and I spoke of the sadness of Kay’s unexpected death. Kay was still young, only 86. The older I become, the younger 86 appears to me. But we were also able to talk about the richness and fullness of Kay’s life. Her husbands, and the wonderful lives they shared together, and as I left Gill’s home, I smiled because, in hearing, and seeing, and feeling, all the love that Gill had for her aunt, and all the accomplishments she had in her life, I felt that perhaps Kay might have looked at this moment differently.

While God tells us that all that he does for us is for our good, he does not tell us his reasons, or what that good might be. He is not obligated to tell us. We have no claim on God. He doesn't owe us an explanation for his actions. This much he does tell us, My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways. . . . as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. [Isaiah 55:8-9]

Many of us become conditioned to look at death as an unnatural tragedy. But the fear of death will only dissipate when we become aware, that dying is as natural as living. The famous psychiatrist Elizabeth Kubler Ross even, suggested that we prepare for dying, as we would prepare for a birth, with excitement and a sense of expectation.
Kay was very much like a stone tossed into a pool. Her circle of love radiated out, and echoed back, long after the stone has come to rest at the bottom. Kay’s fierce loyalty to all her family, her personal poise, elegance, grace, talents, and wisdom, were all part of her radiating personality. Today, as you begin your new journey - we honour your memory Kay, you are coming home. And we are offering you our keys, once again.