This tribute was written and delivered by one of Margaret’s godsons, Jason Pennells, at Margaret’s funeral service on 21 November 2014.
We have come here together to say goodbye to Margaret, and because we share memories of this special person. She was part of our lives, and we, each, were part of hers. Each one of us – those who are here today, those who are unable to attend this service, and those who have gone before her.
Margaret was special. Largely, this was because she made you special. You knew Margaret was focused on you, and on what you were saying, what you were doing, and what you were worried about, were enjoying or were dreaming of. And when speaking of others, she would similarly be focused on their wellbeing, their successes and their difficulties.
She would always seek to understand and ask about you and your current concerns. If she was worried, she was worried about you, not about herself. She would always put herself in the background. If you called or visited, knowing she had been unwell or was in pain, she’d brush that topic to one side and ask “How has your week been?”.
This was not false, not mere politeness: you could tell it in her voice, in her attention and in her constancy: Margaret was sincere. Her attention, like her hospitality, was sometimes quite formal. But it was never a formality.
Margaret was kind.
She was selfless. She was giving and generous: of time, of attention, of praise, and of interest.
From my sister Abi, Margaret’s close friend and neighbour, and increasingly, as Margaret became frailer, her companion and carer, there are many memories.
… Of Margaret’s sense of fun, even the solemn plaster bust of Augustus sporting a paper hat at Christmas.
… Of the kitchen wall, which had children’s heights measured on it for over half a century (and latterly, Margaret’s own height too, to show how she was getting shorter as the young were getting taller).
Margaret was always modest about her own efforts, her own talents and achievements, and about her own significance to people. Yet she could look at a picture by someone else and find in it something positive to say, even if it was not to her taste.
Margaret was, as I say, constant. As she grew into her old age, she remained the same person. And she was the same person each time you saw her. And to everyone: there was no pretence, no façade as to who she was.
Aware of her own mortality, Margaret felt keenly the responsibility for ensuring her father’s reputation as an artist of note. So, at the age of ninety-five, Margaret worked tirelessly to prepare and hold an exhibition of his work, in Kettering and in London; wrote a perceptive and detailed essay for the exhibition catalogue; and recorded, in a short filmed interview, some of her reminiscences and reflections on his painting.
My own memories of Margaret are more often than not domestic, based, above all, on time spent with her in her flat of the past 50-plus years: her kindness and voice accompanying the flow of cooking, attending to her mother, to her brother Norman, and to guests.
To all, Margaret provided a reliable and much enjoyed stream of afternoon teas, morning coffees, and lunches; and always a warm welcome.
Others among us knew Margaret in a range of other roles, and at other times: as a godmother (to William and Alicia, as well as to me), as a family friend, as a teacher, a colleague, a neighbour, a parishioner, a member of NADFAS; a supporter of the Children’s Society, as the sister of Norman, or as the young girl in her father’s paintings.
Some of us have known Margaret in recent years, others have known her from her childhood days in Kettering, and the family friendships which have lived on from then. Special among all these was Margaret’s childhood friendship with Vera, who walked daily with her to Miss Ketcher’s elementary school and who appears with Margaret in the painting The Inseparables. Vera’s son Alan has written of Margaret,
“Next to my mother, who was her life-long friend, she was the most influential woman in my early years. All the family loved her.”
Many of Margaret’s friends are no longer alive (Vera died eleven years ago). The details of Margaret’s life, and her memories of those friendships, go with her – her childhood days in Kettering; her teaching days; her visits, conversations, holidays and friends around the country. She remembered and spoke of all these parts of her life with warmth and with fondness.
Margaret had never an unkind word for anyone. She always sought out and spoke of the positive, in each person and at every turn of events.
Margaret was a teacher. She taught art – its techniques, its history and its value. She also taught much more, through example, both in her role as a teacher and in life. And as the poem and the Bible reading we have just heard suggest, the key to that has been how to relate to others, and to treat each person with selfless love and kindness.
Here are some comments from past pupils of Margaret’s over the years, which capture something of these aspects of Miss Gash, the teacher:
She was my lovely art teacher who kept in contact for years through Christmas cards. I remember her suggesting, when drawing a tree, to draw the spaces around it and not the actual tree. This, of course, resulted in a picture of a tree and I found it a magical way of seeing.
She was the first person to make me really aware that outward impressions can be deceptive. On the outside, she looked so ‘proper’, and yet she had the most subtle and supportive understanding of children I experienced at school. She was that teacher one always wants to find, that most influenced my youth. I am very pleased to have known her.
She was such a wonderful teacher as well as amazing person, and I owe her a lot.
As these comments show, Margaret was a light in our lives. We carry that light on, and reflect on what it has shown us. Sad as we are at this time of parting, we are glad that she has lit up our lives.
And so, we each hold and cherish our own memories of Margaret. For me, Margaret was, is, and will always remain, a good, kind, giving, constant and loving friend.
Margaret: we thank you for being in our lives. And for welcoming us to be in yours. Rest in Peace.
You can download a copy the Order of Service here.