Eulogy from Teresa's Funeral, by Steve Dockray (Son in law)
Thinking about it a couple of days ago I realise I’ve known Teresa for 48 years – half of her life, first as a schoolfriend of Tony’s, then as a son in law. There’s really no need for me to dip into the Les Dawson book of mother in law jokes, as she really didn’t fit the stereotypes.
On an occasion like her funeral it would be easy to think of recent years and that we’re saying goodbye to a fondly remembered old lady who had slid into the solitary world of dementia.
But that’s not what Teresa’s life was about. So here’s a little potted history to look back over the years.
Soon after the Great War her future mother, Alice, a Bristol girl, set out to Simla in India to marry a man she had scarcely met before – something of a matchmaking job by one her sisters. His name was Umberto, and he was an Italian master confectioner. It says something of the fame of the restaurant and shop that bore his name – Davicos – that it got a mention later on in Madhur Jaffrey’s memoirs as being the place to go for special treats.
Teresa was born in 1920. She always said she well remembered a comfortable and happy early childhood. She even learned some Hindi which she thought she had lost until in her 70s she saw an Indian film and realised she could understand most of what they were saying. Her brother Fred was born in 1924.
This comfortable life changed near her sixth birthday. Her father died.
Her mother decided to head back to Bristol. A family friend told Teresa that she would have to look after her. Perhaps this was the foundation for her caring nature. On the boat back from India Alice was distraught and took to her cabin, leaving Teresa to look after two year old Fred.
Alice got a house in Bristol. Teresa went to school, all the while doing shopping and generally looking after her mother who was always delicate and demanding.
At 15, Teresa went into nursing, in time becoming sister Davico. She gravitated towards maternity work and health visiting. It must have been hard work, and dangerous too as her career spanned the war years and Bristol was a frequent target for bombing raids. During these years she gained many long term friends among the mothers and babies that she dealt with.
In 1950 she married Bruce Harbottle and as was the way in those days, she gave up work to be a housewife in Birmingham. Her mother moved in from the start of their marriage, having been narrowly deflected from going on the honeymoon. She stayed with them for about 33 years. There was no break, even for family holidays.
Three babies came along over the next 7 years – Tony, Alison, Chris, so she was kept busy.
Around 1959 the family moved to Torquay, having been advised that Alison would never thrive in the polluted air of Birmingham. Bruce’s banking job involved long hours, so running the household fell on Teresa’s shoulders.
Teresa and Bruce were actively involved in church life and a long term pattern of helping people developed. There was always an extra place at the table for unexpected visitors. Several times I have heard the story about the children being banished to the kitchen to eat fish fingers whilst two chance visitors ate the roast dinner that they had been expecting. There were always some lonely people who would spend Christmas day with the Harbottles.
Teresa and Bruce were always quick to welcome new ministers at the church and invite them round. They all seemed to turn into lifelong friendships. Teresa ran a young wives group and taught in the Sunday school.
Teresa was always inviting people into the house to dry off or have a Mars Bar, be it a rain soaked postman or men digging up the road outside.
The 1980s onwards saw the arrival of 6 grandchildren who brought much pleasure to Teresa – and family activities once more involved young children, to Teresa’s great delight. She was able to involve them in her life long love of drawing and painting, writing, music and flower arranging.
Sadly Bruce died in 1990 when Teresa was 70. She managed well for the next 12 years, with many friends, church activity and family to keep her busy. Time passed and we became aware that her memory was playing tricks on her – she would tell us about when she had tea with the Queen and when she went up Everest on an elephant with Michael Palin.
It’s rather a pity that her four great grandchildren were not born until these later years as she would have loved being involved with youngsters yet again.
We were told she was starting to suffer from dementia, maybe Alzheimers and we arranged for carers to go in regularly and we went to her house ourselves most days. After a couple of years being alone became unsafe and frightening for her and we managed to get her into Hadleigh Court retirement home. Even there, the vestiges of her nature must have been apparent to the staff there as she soon became very much loved by them and was well cared for through her declining years. The end was very peaceful – she just drifted away.
Life is a journey. Teresa’s journey left in its wake memories of caring kindness, faith, warmth and love that will echo down through all the years for people who have been priveledged to have known her.