Today I went to the funeral of the truest Gentleman that I have known. His name was Herbert Standen, but we all called him Stan.

I first met Stan when I was given the job, as a fledging audiologist, to go to Calvary Hospital on a Saturday morning (ie, out of work hours so the single/non-mother aud was the most dispensible!!). His wife had just died, and he was in hospital for some illness, but he needed a hearing aid for the funeral. I set the aid up for him, while he sat there in an incredible amount of pain, both physically with his illness and emotionally because of the loss of his trully beloved wife, Pat. He cried and cried for her, and at the time I just didn’t know what else to do but to listen and then get the hell out of there.

A few weeks later he was on my list for a home visit. He was so glad to see me, and in his tiny government assisted flat he gave me Tim Tams and tea, and then he cried and cried over his beloved Pat. They had no children, only 3 still borns, and it still affected him that they had never been able to complete their family. They had emmigrated to Australia from Britain after WW2, she was an Irish Nurse and he a Lieutenant. After a few years they settled in Canberra and made it their home.

What struck me most about Stan was the way he spoke of Pat with such devotion and love. He truly loved her and missed her so deeply. He was overjoyed that I was about to be married, and I asked him to come to the church to see it. The photo of him and I at my wedding is one of his favourites and it is still in a frame in his house. I wonder what will happen to it now?

I shed a tear today at the funeral as I watched his coffin, draped in the Union Jack, dissappear into the depths of the crematorioum. His walking stick and hat, and a large photo of Him and Pat on their wedding day was all that remained. No family left, no-one to remember his birthday or to tell their grandchildren about him. He lived an amazing life and was an amazing man and now there is nothing.

I shall miss him, miss his little poems, miss his birthday cards to the kids, miss his “God Bless You” as you left him, and miss his funny laugh and sad cry.

God Bless You Stan. xxxxx