Joan Beryl Morgan

The dreaded tuberculosis of those dark years of medicine before and up to the 1940 Joan nursed her sick Mother Florie. Although not a well young lady suffering all her life with constipation and later gall bladder removal and many broken bones. Any wonder Joan in her own old fashioned way as the saying goes. Somehow she Knew when she picked a husband that gave her the love and care without demanding too much of her. They both made their way with not clap trap and bull of words but action to try to better their life ahead together including their two sons. Faults her husband may have had of the flesh but Joan loved without many uttered words of love Joan loved her man victor. Victor Expressed his devotion in love and his undying love for his girl Joan. Who had in time past saw him off on cold dark station in his days of army service. Slept by her side that last night. In immortal silence of death Joan in her coffin lay I played “Too night my love” A room of memories when I work now remains to sustain my grief of future days to come. Sorrows come and Sorrows Fade. — Like angry clouds across the sky they fade. — And soon will come the time to laugh and love again. – As Sorrows fade.

Now I returned that deed of time to see our Joan off on that last journey from her home. To the final resting place till we meet again my love.

Joan Nursing her Mother dieing from TB

PSALM 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures:
he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul:
he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies:
thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

POEM READ by Dr STEPHANIE MORGAN my Daughter in Law

Do not stand at my grave and weep, I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glint on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you wake in the morning hush, I am the swift, uplifting rush Of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft starlight at night. Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there, I do not sleep.
Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there, I did not die!

(Mary Elizabeth Frye 1932)

ELEGY TO JOAN WRITTEN BY AUTHOR CHRISTOPHER MORGAN READ IN CHURCH BY KIM MORGAN my Daughter in Law

The ‘salt of the earth’ was our Joan A selfless person
Sacrificing herself for the benefit of The family and friends she loved so much. Compassionate to all god’s creatures Wishing only to be on the barricades To stop the vivisectors and the torturers of The helpless creation.
She is on the other side now With all the faithful pets gone before Waiting patiently for her to come home Rusty the corgi, Shamus the collie, Lizza and Ben the bull terriers, and lots of cats, all called kitty.
Joan was sometimes shy, never putting herself first. but quick witted and ferocious like a panther- cat When those she loved, all of us, needed defending.
The patterns of her life were laid down early As a teenager she nursed her own mother Through fatal consumption. Intelligent, well- read and witty Only prejudice and ignorance,
Denied her the education she deserved. But she rose above that,
Running her own small business A traditional welsh ‘mammy’ Holding the purse strings with skill right to the end.
She bought herself a rough diamond from the army, Victor, Vic was the love of her life And on that rock, against all the odds She built a good life
For him, for Chris and for Royce. Joan’s great soul will never die Never was there a time when she was not, Never will there be a time when we shall cease to be With all of us hereafter.
And Just as in this body the soul Must pass through childhood, youth and age So too (at death) will it take up another body. As a person casts off his worn- out clothes and takes on other new ones in their place So does the soul cast off its worn out body and enters others new.
It cannot be cut by the sword Nor burnt by fire The waters cannot wet her Not the wind dry her up She is eternal, roving everywhere Firm set – unmoving and everlasting and we shall meet again one day.
Meeting that love of mother reunited in death.With mothers sister aunt Gert and aunt doris nana swift.

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