CLARISSA'S EULOGY
‘Wee Liv’ is how I often referred to my lovely Norwegian mother-in-law.
She was the sweetest, kindest, most non-judgemental woman you could ever meet - with a huge smile that lit up her whole face and made her incredibly light blue Scandinavian eyes twinkle.
Liv was a real lady in every sense. She was incredibly accepting of people, forgiving and had so much love in her heart for her family, relatives, friends and of course, Norway.
We had lots of fun times together during the 19 years that I had the pleasure of knowing her.
She was always so grateful for the little things in life – even just sitting with her, holding her hand and enjoying a wee Gin & Tonic would really make her happy.
I can’t recall a single time when Liv turned down an invite to spend time with Per and I after her husband, John, passed away. She would gladly hop on the train from York to come and see us in London and then to Hove when we moved here ten years ago. She never travelled light and always had at least one rucksack filled with blocks of Gjetost – that’s a Norwegian goat’s cheese – for Per and I to enjoy on Ryvita.
Liv was so proud of the academic achievements of her late husband, her sons and her two grandchildren, Tom and Emily. She also loved all the Hawthorne nephews and treasured her close friendship with their mum, Pat. In fact, she would often say to me that Pat and her were more like sisters and loved each other dearly.
We eventually persuaded Liv to move down to Hove five years ago. Sadly she was diagnosed with vascular dementia, and then Alzheimers, not long after that. But we still managed to go for walks, have coffee mornings, enjoy meals together, a cigarette and a Gin & Tonic or two up until perhaps the last year, when her illness became much more pronounced. But even then I would still get a great big smile when I visited her at Autumn Lodge. In fact, I got a big ‘Liv’ smile when I visited her with Gypsy a couple of weeks before she died.
Liv, you have left this earth with no regrets and no bad memories. Yours was a happy childhood and a loving marriage. You had so much love and kindness in your heart and I am a very lucky daughter-in-law to have known you………
Clarissa hawthorne
16th October 2016
EULOGY FROM PER-ERIC
Liv loved lilacs. And mauves. And forget-me-not blues. All sorts of pastels, and wild-berry colours.
Liv was always fiercely Norwegian.
But also proud to be an honorary Yorkshire-woman.
Liv loved her family. And all her friends.
In the last decade of her life Liv also had increasing dementia.
And towards the very end, it robbed her of much of her essence – but never all of it.
Some say that dementia is the longest goodbye.
But I’m not going to dwell on that.
Except to say two things:
First, even as Liv lost the power to make sentences, the ability to understand the difference between a son, a brother or a husband, the difference between day and night; or winter and summer, she was still my mother, Liv, deep inside: – her lovely smile; her hugs; her slightly mischievous humour; her delight at Norwegian brunost on Ryvita; or even – dare I say it – a once-a-week Silk Cut cigarette!
Liv loved all the care-staff at Autumn Lodge: they were kind and loving. And she loved Kay at her previous home in Saxon Court.
She smiled her lovely smile at them, and was happy.
And yet, towards the end, she often told me she wanted to go and live with her mother again. That might be because of the regular visions she had, in those last years, of her mother, Mimi, visiting her from the Other Side, talking to her, and reassuring her.
Or it might just be her mistaking Clarissa for her mother.
We’ll never know.
Anyhow, I would just urge you – for Liv’s sake – to donate to the Alzheimer’s Society to help them with their work on this website.
What is left of Liv now?
Her soul, yes.
The Norwegian Vikings believed what survives after death - apart from the soul you might occasionally glimpse in a dream - are reputation; memories; and the wisdom that person passed on.
I think they were right.
Liv touched the lives of many people.
Liv wasn’t a tub-thumper, or a preacher.
She was a quiet, gentle influencer.
We’re different because of the example we got from Liv’s unassuming actions.
And our fond memories of her.
She was a lovely, lovely woman.
Speaking personally, I realise much of my own attitude on how to live life, comes from what Liv passed on to me.
Take Liv’s love of cooking and food.
She cooked Norwegian: - poached salmon with dill; fresh prawns with mayonnaise; roast belly of pork with crackling and caraway-seed-surkaal.
And she cooked English: - roast beef with a separate starter-course of Yorkshire pudding; steak and kidney pie; Grandma Hawthorne’s recipe for ginger cake.
And she loved it when her husband, John, cooked Chinese: - even the radishes marinaded in soy sauce!
Way back in the Sixties, when it was virtually impossible to get original ingredients, she made Hungarian goulashes. And Russian stroganoffs.
From these food experiences, I’m sure I learned to be adventurous, and try anything once, however unfamiliar, including: – pickled herrings, mussels, and mouldy cheese.
Not just with food, though, but with all experiences in life.
And to expect there was never only one correct, “English” way to do anything, whatever it was.
I also suspect it may have led to a certain stroppiness in at least one of her sons, simply not caring about what everyone else judges appropriate:
“We’ll do it our way, thank-you very much!”
Liv could also be adventurous with travel.
When she was only sixteen, she cycled with a friend all the way from Marseille to Copenhagen. Apparently, they ran out of money in Holland and lived off bananas for the last stretches.
In her late 70s, she travelled, with her best friend, Tove, on the post-boat, the length of the Norwegian coast to the North Cape - to see the Midnight Sun.
Liv taught us to be adventurous, to explore new, unfamiliar places, not to pre-plan everything, and stress in advance, but to trust in our abilities to react calmly to the moment.
Liv was quietly, privately religious. But she distrusted the High-Church-Anglicans who apparently rejected her Lutheran faith as not good enough to pass their muster.
So she was very drawn to the Quakerism of the school my father taught at.
That was about: accepting difference; being non-judgemental; being contemplative; thinking before acting; being patient, waiting for the appropriate moment.
Liv loved flowers: in gardens and in the countryside.
She knew the name of every flower.
And every tree or wild berry or mushroom.
And more than that – what made them grow well or badly; where was the best place to find them.
Liv also loved walking in hills – particularly in Oslo’s Nordmarka, but also on the Yorkshire Moors, Wolds, and Dales. And, in her last few years, the Sussex Downs.
Again it was all about the regenerative power of being physically active.
In the open air.
Close to nature.
Liv loved the seashore too.
What eventually persuaded her to move to Brighton was having a flat with a balcony where she could sit with a coffee and look out to sea.
And at people learning to kite-surf on the lagoon.
I think she was genuinely disappointed to realise she would never be able to try out kite-surfing herself.
How could it be more difficult than ski-jumping?
Liv loved Norway with a fierceness and a passion that few of us here can really understand. Partly, it came of being a citizen of a young, small country, liberated from occupation in her own lifetime.
Liv’s Norwegian patriotism was very different from the jingoism and political overtones that sometimes come in a big country with an erstwhile empire.
Instead it was a quiet, celebratory, personal love of: family; friends; community; cultural characteristics; and unique landscapes.
And as we’ve heard, that included Norwegian music, whether folk songs or Grieg.
Liv loved doing simple, every-day, convivial things with friends – meeting for coffee, picnicking on top of a hill, with tea from a thermos and gjet-ost sandwiches out of tupperware.
She loved meeting her sister-in-law, Pat in the spa-town of Harrogate – what they both called “Half-way”.
It was what the Norwegians call “Selskap” – “Company”.
Or “Hygge” – “Cosy-Friendliness”.
There’s so much all of us remember about Liv.
Even if it’s just her mischievous grin as she stole all the crackling, like a child, at Christmas dinner a year or two ago.
We can all smile and be comforted by our memories.
But I don’t want to pretend that this isn’t also a sad, sad time.
We will all miss Liv so very, very much.
Per Eric
16th October 2016
I am thinking of my dear and only cousin Liv and all the years I knew her. She was two years older than I am but we had always lots to talk about in our younger days. Especially in our summer holydays at Tante Barbra and Onkel Fredrik's house in Moss- and our visits to Bestemor in Wulfbergsgate 7.
We did not meet again until the Christmas season at family parties at Tåsen Terrasse, or at my family home. Then we were both 10 cm taller!
Liv and I had a very “young” and understanding aunt, Tante Eva. We talked often about her with great love. Liv often said: “What would we be without Tante Eva?” She was our best friend. We were “The three musketeers”. She taught us to love the arts, music, literature, the theatre, ballet.
When Liv met John in France we were all excited . We all love the English, maybe because of the last war, or maybe from before. When Liv and John got married there was a lovely reception in Frognerseter Hotel. I was matron-of-honour! Liv's "forlover". Maybe John's brother was best man.
Some years later came the good news about the boys. Tante Mimi (Liv's mother) went over and came back with pictures. Yesterday I looked up all the pictures Liv sent me and I found her letters about John and The Boys and their activities.
Some years ago Arne and I spent a lovely holiday with Liv and John. They took us around to all the best pubs and castles.
Once we stopped on the moors to enjoy the scenery and she surprised us with a big homemade lunch she had hidden in their car. And when I took my two eldest grandchildren to meet my family in York we met Emily and Richard. The next minute the girls were great friends.
And now Liv is not with us any longer. But we have all the good memories .
She was such a lovely lady.
Love from Karin and family in Oslo, Norway.
Karin
11th October 2016