Katherine Emily Marmion
17 February 1992 – 5 September 2012
Canberra
10 September 2012
A Celebration of the Life of
Katie Marmion
(Opening music: Moonlight sonata)
Welcome
Celebrant
My
name is Peter and I have been asked by Katie’s family to conduct this
celebration of her life.
Katie’s
family would like to thank all of you who have come here today to join with
them in gently farewelling her. They are particularly grateful to those of you
who have travelled a long way to be here. Katie’s family are deeply grateful to
family and friends, who have reached out to them with such generosity over the
past six days. Their thoughts are with all those who would have wanted to be here
with them today, but who for various reasons have been prevented from doing so.
There
are many glowing tributes in the social media from Katie’s many friends, as
well as in private messages to her family. Doug and Gen feel that Katie’s
friends made her the person she has been, and they recognise the love and support
shown to her by Hannah, Kari, Hazel, James, Richard, Sophia, Bethany, Sophie,
and Quoc, and all of her other friends – you know who you are.
Only
those who have walked alongside a beloved sister, daughter, niece, cousin, or
granddaughter, as she battled a disease such as Katie’s, can really begin to
understand what her family has been going through since her death last week.
Those who love deeply will grieve deeply; no philosophy or religion ever taught
can prevent this wholly natural reaction of the human heart. When love is
unconditional like this, however, acceptance and letting go of those we love is
equally a part of our human condition. Nothing can now detract from the joy and
beauty that you shared with Katie; nothing can possibly affect the happiness
and depth of experience she herself knew in her life with you. What has been,
has been – forever. The past with all its meaning is sacred and secure. Your
love for her and her love for you, her family and friends, cannot now be
altered by time or circumstance. You will remember her as a living, vital
presence.
As you
talk about Katie today and in the days and years to come, you will reminisce,
and laugh, and cry. Eventually, the times you grieve will grow further apart
and shorter of duration, while your fears that you might forget her will
dissipate. Your memories of her will only grow stronger.
Of
course, the impact of Katie’s death has also spread well beyond her immediate
family. When, suddenly and unexpectedly, we lose a dear friend, or someone with
whom we have lived, studied, or worked, we are confronted with the reality of
our own mortality, and we are led to acknowledge our tenuous grip on the life
which, at other times, we take so much for granted. Life seems to stand still.
I believe that what you are called upon to do today is to let life stand still,
put aside everything else on your minds, bring yourselves into this sacred
space, and reflect on Katie’s life. As you do so, you will be recalling the
experiences, the relationship, you shared with her. You can take satisfaction
that Katie has been, and still is, a part of your life. Her influence endures,
and will continue to do so for Gen and Doug, for her brother, Sam, and her
sisters Mady and Sinead, for her grandparents Bill and Mem, for her cousins,
aunts and uncles, and indeed for all of you whose lives she touched.
Katie was still young, and by any
normal expectations, life was stretching out before her. Her family could be
excused, therefore, for asking, “how could life be so unfair?” I think that if
Katie were able to answer that question for us, she would simply say that life
is neither fair nor unfair – life is life, and that this has been her own
particular story. As you will hear in a few moments, it is the story of a loved
and loving daughter and sister, a beautiful young woman with a burning passion
to make our world a better place, and who asked little of life beyond finding
something meaningful to do, making her own special contribution to the world we
all share, and sharing her life with those she loved.
First Reading
Celebrant
In these
past days, Katie’s family has found consolation in some beautiful words she
wrote herself not long ago. Her mother, Genevieve, will read them for us.
Genevieve
Katie
wrote that she was able to reflect on her memories and not cry - not mourn what
she had thought was her lack of success in life. she wrote a piece she titled
'Treasure'.
"I am so lucky that at
this young age I am actually quite proud of the person I have become.
A childhood and adolescence
spent in the grips of mental illness, now young adulthood consumed by cancer.
I have lived a lot of
things in my short life many people never have to, but tonight I have no
regrets.
This moment is enough.
Tonight I have forgiveness and understanding and a stack of words full of
courage and hope to draw comfort from.
I am certainly not alone in
this world, and that is all that could possibly ever matter."
Katie
reflected on the ‘Serenity Prayer’ of St Francis, and developed her own
version:
"In ourselves we find the serenity
To accept the things we cannot change;
The courage to change the things we can;
And the wisdom to know the difference"
She goes on to say,
"Serenity comes not from a higher being but from
within.
Finding courage, finding acceptance,
and finding peace within oneself.
Choice and control. These things are central to my
life."
Eulogy
Celebrant
Katie
was born in Geraldton, Western Australia, a beloved daughter for Doug and Gen.
She began her primary schooling at Waggrakine, near Geraldton, and when the
family moved to Canberra, she was enrolled at Turner Primary. She went on to
Lyneham High, and completed her secondary education at Dickson College. Katie
went on to commence a Psychology degree at the University of Canberra. It is
typical of Katie that she had arranged to take a year off to do volunteer work
with World Youth International in Peru, and had been working at JB Hi-Fi to
save money for her fares and other costs. It also typical of her that when it
became impossible for her to participate in the project herself, she was able
to inspire another young person to take her place. Katie’s mother spoke to me of a “gently
vibrant and fun-loving” young woman, who was at the same time a deep thinker.
Her father told me that while she was a caring person, Katie had no time for
excessive sentimentality, and she was focused on what she wanted to achieve,
and organised in pursuing her goals.
For
Katie, life was not only about the big issues of the day, but also about the
ordinary good times with family: watching a DVD, or cooking and eating at home.
There were memorable family experiences as well, like the four months when
Doug’s work took them to the northwest corner of Papua New Guinea, experiencing
a different culture, and making new friends.
Friends
were always of central importance to Katie, and she loved inviting them home to
spend time around the pool, in front of a DVD, clubbing, or going to the coast
with them. Katie never tired of entertaining her fronds, and she loved to cook
for those around her, even when her own appetite was affected by the treatment
or pain she suffered. Katie often tried to get her friends to sit through the
movie Gone With the Wind, but had
limited success.
Katie
was a talented, self-taught pianist and guitarist, and also sang beautifully,
in a way that Gen described to me as “quietly confident but not showy.” She was
also enjoyed drama, especially musical theatre, both at school and later on,
and she brought a critical eye to her appreciation of movies.
Katie
had always enjoyed reading. She had enjoyed the Sherlock Holmes books in
earlier years, and progressed to Evelyn Waugh and Kurt Vonnegut more recently.
She also enjoyed political and current affairs blogs, and subscribed to the New York Times online edition. She loved
Stephen Fry’s mordant wit on TV.
Katie
did not find in organised religion the answers to the big questions, but she
was a continual seeker, who liked to explore the values of the various belief
systems, drawing from Buddhism, for example, a belief in mindfulness, and
living in the moment. She had no time for self-centred people, and Katie drew
her inspiration from people and institutions who actually changed things for
the better. Her concern for the less well off sprang from a deeply held
commitment to social justice, and translated into her commitment to sponsoring
a child overseas. Her life was truly a gift to those with whom she shared it.
Tributes
Celebrant
I now call on Katie’s good friends Hazel and Kari to share
some memories with us. They will be followed by a good friend of the family,
Alaine.
Hazel and Kari
For Katie…
In thinking about what we were going to say today, we were
looking through some of what Katie had written and put out publicly. one of her
writings that we came across was particularly striking:
"Studying human beings will
inevitably teach you that we are all different, and it is important to
recognise that all humans experience is on a continuum. That everyone has a
unique story and reason for everything they do and are."
This passage for us, reading it now, captures a lot of
Katie's character. She showed a real curiosity for people and the experiences
that contribute to the person that they are. I think for us, it was this
interest in people's journeys that made her such a compassionate friend. She
had so much time for people, even when she was ill, and was always so grateful
for her relationships with all those she drew around her. She had an amazing
clarity about what was important to her in life, and wisdom that allowed her to
see herself within a much bigger picture.
We feel it fitting to quote here some words that Katie very
much cherished from Max Ehrmann's 'Desiderata'.
"You are a child of the universe, no less than the
trees and the stars; you have a right to be here."
Remembering Katie now, she had a real desire to surround
herself with the people and things that made her happy. she had a love of
beautiful hats, shoes, clothes, Robert Downey Jr, red lipstick, swearing, Gene
Wilder as Willy Wonka, fantastic sunglasses and many, many other things that
people will find memories in.
Music particularly was a great passion. A beautiful voice
herself, no one dared battle her in Singstar for fear of embarrassment and
total annihilation. Not one for political correctness, she appreciated good,
witty humour such as the stylings of Tim Minchin and Stephen Fry. So much so that she offered to bake two
hundred cookies for a complete stranger she met on Twitter in exchange for
tickets to see Stephen Fry. Even following through after it turned out they had
to be gluten and dairy free.
Speaking of food, we can remember many a good chat over
cheesecake, coffee, pad thai, brodburger and Sammy's. Many of her friends
remember these chats ensuing in a good gossip and great political debate,
making it very clear often that while she understood everyone was entitled to
their own opinion, sometimes they were just wrong.
Katie's warmth, humour, compassion, friendship and love will
be cherished. A couple of months ago she made note of a website that quoted
young children's thoughts about love and what love is. A very wise four year
old said:
"Love is what makes you smile when you're
tired."
We love you Katie. Through thick and thin, tired and awake,
when things were looking up and when everything was falling to pieces, you put
the biggest smile on our faces. We can only hope that we helped to make you
smile as well.
Goodbye,
beautiful Katie.
We will miss our Sutton
dates, brood dates, shopping dates, laksa dates, road trip dates, milk and
honey dates, couch dates, Indian take-away dates, Hazel’s car dates, Skype
dates, baking dates and all the memories we made and those we never got to
make.
And in quoting one more
time, thank you for all the "warm fuzzes" you gave us. We love you.
Alaine
For Katie:
When I think of Katie I think of sunshine. She emitted an
energy that was astounding. She radiated warmth, vibrancy, positivity. You
could even see the sunshine through her skin. She was positively luminescent.
We all wanted to be around Katie. She made us feel warm, alive, nourished. She
was a living challenge to the claim of science that the planets revolve around
the sun.
Katie never sought to be at the centre of anything. Her
strength of presence was much too secure for that. Her sunshine was much more
egalitarian. It was irrepressible; always sparking and engaging; always seeking
to interconnect ideas and people in the real
and hyper-real or digital world. Being with Katie was a postmodern
statement. The physical and the digital seemed to be pretty much
interconnected. An idle conversation with Katie was always, in more recent
years, a conversation with Katie and her iPhone. Together they managed the trick of no longer making
the conversation idle. In the hospice, when I worried out loud that my kids
might access inappropriate material on youtube,
Katie had already googled how to set security settings for my browser and gave
me a brief on-screen tutorial. The best was the last time she and her mum visited
our house. The kids were playing Lego Batman on my PC laptop, and the laptop
froze. Katie, who's surname was surely Apple-Marmion (along with that of the
rest of her family), tried to help them out but couldn't. Instead, she took out
her iPhone, photographed the frozen screen, and uploaded it on Twitter, asking
whether anyone had any suggestions. A response came within a couple of minutes:
' Close the lid, douse it with petrol, and set it alight. Then go to the Apple
store to buy a Mac.'. It was a moment of such great levity at a time when Katie
was gravely unwell and which could have been, if Katie were more normal, a
sombre occasion. Not with Katie.
She often turned the ordinary into the extraordinary.
sunshine has a habit of doing that.
I suppose by definition, dying is ordinary in that it
happens to all of us, but once again Katie turned it into an extraordinary
event. A palliative care specialist once told me that people die as they live.
Katie sure did that. She maintained her integrity, her brightness, cleverness,
engagement, empathy for others, sweetness—not to mention her iPhone—even in the
most difficult circumstances. I still can't get my head around the mindset that
enabled her to call her blog 'Lucky, really'. Katie didn't live with denial,
she lived with the desire to make every moment an engagement with the humanity
of others, and she saw the humanity in her own plight.
'Lucky, really' shows such a generosity of spirit, such an
appreciation of the plight of others, such humility, that it renders me truly
in awe of Katie. She is such an inspiration.
Her mum and Dad, Genevieve and Doug, have been through a
very hard time and have given Katie their all. they brought Katie into the
world and gave her the environment where she could blossom, as she did. They
created a beautiful family environment with their three children, Sam, Katie
and Mady. They are very amazing parents—loving, affirming, nurturing, without
stifling. Their kids are a testament to the fact that they pretty much got the
balance right. None of us can comprehend how sad you all feel now. We give you
our love. We are so, so sorry.
I'm not a religious person. I believe that Katie will now
fuel the great cosmos with her energy. The stars will shine brighter thanks to
Katie. We will all be warmer and ever so much more alive, thanks to Katie.
Katie, we can't thank you enough.
Reflection
Celebrant
We have
heard a number of tributes to the memory of a special young woman; a dearly
loved daughter, sister and granddaughter, a loving and caring friend to many.
I invite
you to spend a short time in silence as we listen to some of Katie’s favourite
music and watch a presentation on her life. I am sure you will all want to take
this time to reflect with deep gratitude on her life and on how it touched your
own.
DVD presentation and reflection music: ‘Pure
Imagination’ (sung by Gene Wilder in Willy Wonka)
Second Reading
Celebrant
As our
second reading, Katie’s family have chosen
'Feel no guilt in laughter'. It will be read for us by Doug's cousin, Sandra.
Sandra
Feel no guilt in laughter, she'd know how much
you care.
Feel no sorrow in a smile that she is not here
to share.
You cannot grieve forever; she would not want
you to.
She'd hope that you could carry on the way you
always do.
So talk about the good times and the way you
showed you cared,
The days you spent together, all the happiness
you shared.
Let memories surround you, a word someone may
say
Will suddenly recapture a time, an hour, a
day,
That brings her back as clearly as though she
were still here,
And fills you with the feeling that she is
always near.
For if you keep those moments, you will never
be apart
And she will live forever locked safely within
your heart
Celebrant
Katie’s family have asked me to pass on their invitation to you to
join them for refreshments after the ceremony, at the family home.
The Committal
Celebrant
It is now time for us to respectfully farewell Katie,
grateful for the life, which has been lived, and for all that life has meant to
us. I ask you to stand.
Tenderly, lovingly, and reverently,
We commit the body of Katie Marmion
To nature’s keeping.
We give thanks for her life,
We remember with gratitude her deep love for
her family,
Her sense of humour and her generous heart.
May any regrets we feel today be turned into
gratitude
For the time we shared with her.
And may the chill darkness of death give way
To the warmth and sunshine of her memory
That we will cherish forever.
May we leave this place in the quietness of
Katie’s memory,
Offering our love and support to her family.
Floral Tribute
Celebrant
Katie’s family will now place sprigs of wattle on the
coffin, and would like to invite all of you who would like to do so to follow
them. The family will have a little more quiet time together, after which they
look forward to joining you outside the chapel, or at their home.
Music for floral tribute: ‘Clair de Lune’
Committal Music: 'The
Heart Asks Pleasure First'
Concluding music: 'They
Can't take that away from me'
‘About her’
