Farewell Service for William Pridham

Opening music: 

Pachelbel Canon in D Major

Introduction:

A welcome to you this afternoon in coming here to honour the life of William Pridham who was better known to you all as Bill. My name is Andrea Wren, and on behalf of Bill’s close family, I am the celebrant conducting this service.

Before continuing, I’d like to mention that if you wish to commemorate Bill’s memory with a donation, please offer these to Willow Wood Hospice. Bill spent some time here and was very well looked after. A donation box will be available with the funeral director as you leave the chapel later.

After the service, the family will be heading to Barton Villa. You are welcome to join them here to share your stories and memories of Bill, and to raise a toast to his memory.

Bill died on the 17th August in Willow Wood Hospice, at the age of 87. He had contacted aspiratory pneumonia, but he had been poorly for a long while and had been in hospital for six months previous to his admittance to Willow Wood. 

Bill had the great fortune of living full years, with wonderful people in his life. But that doesn’t make his loss any easier to deal with, because he was so well-loved and will be much-missed. Hopefully, you can take comfort in knowing that others are experiencing similar feelings of loss as yourself, and you can look to each other for support. 

Bill was a man who loved his family unconditionally. He lived by a strong work ethic, and had a wonderful sense of humour. He was exceptionally clever, and he was always wanting to help others. He lived a life that was worthy of celebration and so as well as paying your last respects to Bill, you are invited to rejoice in the life that he had. 

Therefore, I shall begin with a tribute to Bill.

Tribute to Bill

William Pridham was born in Salford on the 26th January in 1931, and was brought up in Ashton by his mother Grace, and his father, Edward. Bill was the eldest of five children. His younger siblings were Ron, and the late Gerry, Edith and George. Bill and Ron were close in age.  this helped them form an exceptionally strong bond as they were growing up together. Bill was also close to his grandparents, but especially his Grandma, Alice Pridham, who was kind, and tough, a real character.

Bill and his siblings grew up in the local Ashton area with their parents, and went to school here. At the age of 9, he suffered a huge blow in his young life when he lost his adored father, at Dunkirk. As the oldest brother, Bill took on the role of looking after his younger siblings, and neighbours and friends called him “the little mother” for the way he looked after them all. 

This difficult period for the family meant that Bill couldn’t finish his schooling, and his grandfather insisted that he leave school at age fourteen, in order to be the bring in family income. Yet, Bill had been so very proud of the fact that he had won a scholarship to Ashton Grammar School, although wasn’t able to fulfil it. Such a shame, as he was so academically gifted.

One of Bill’s first jobs had been working with a tailor, then he was on the railways in a signal box, and had even signed up to the RAF for national service. However, he was discharged from the services after contracting rheumatic fever. 

One job that stands out in the minds of Bill’s family is when he was working for a Jewish employer and had to take a goose for kosher slaughter. He made a journey across Manchester on a tram, with a live goose in a bag. It broke Bill’s heart to return with the dead goose. 

It was at the very tender age of nine that Bill met Marian, the girl who was to become his future wife. He wrote some of his own words about this chance meeting, which are as follows:

"I had a Great Aunt Lucy who lived in Hill St Ashton and in 1940, her husband, Uncle John, died. At the age of nine, I was sent to live with her for a while to help her get over her loss. During the evenings, Aunt Lucy's neighbours, Mrs Sharples and her two daughters used to pay regular visits to have a chat and give Aunt Lucy some company. Even at nine years old, I fell in love with the younger Sharples daughter, Marian. During these evenings we used to lie on a sofa covered with a blanket and have a cuddle whilst the grown ups talked. Eventually I had to return home but the memory of that curly haired girl remained."

Bill had been eighteen when he and Marian got together. She was working in Roebuck’s Drapers and Outfitters. He spotted her through the window, and went in to ask her out. They married on the 6th October in 1951, at Welbeck Street Baptist Chapel, and so began their lifelong partnership together. They had reached a diamond anniversary before Marian died.

Bill and Marian had four children together - Margaret, Gerry, Michael and Alison. The family emigrated to Australia as ‘ten pound poms’ in 1964 with Bill’s brother Ron, his wife Dorothy, and their children, David and Geoffrey. 

In Australia, there was a point where Bill kept up three jobs, to make sure the family had enough money. He had a lot of physical strength, a strong work ethic, and was very resilient. And no matter how hard Bill had worked, he always made time to take his kids to the beach regularly. They had a wonderful life out there, and Bill was a great father to all his children, who loved him dearly. 

Alison remembers  his kindness, intelligence, his unconditional love and enthusiasm for his whole family  and his ability to get up and move on after almost any kind of adversity.

Mick says that he remembers "Playing cards until silly o'clock after mum had gone to bed. Dad showed immense patience and understanding with me personally, and always maintained faith in my ability to put things right, helping wherever he could. He believed in all of us, and that's one of the most important things a parent can do."

Gerry recalls how much his dad taught him right from wrong. He said: “When I was nine, Dad took me back to a shop from where I had stolen a soft ball, asking the shop owner to forgive me for my poor judgment and selfishness. In later life, when I was faced with ethical dilemmas, I would ask myself “what would Dad do?” Far more than stealing a ball, it was more about how to treat people, and how to help people less fortunate than yourself.”

As well as moral standards, Bill also taught his children life skills. Gerry has fond memories of going to work with his dad, manning the pressure lock for the tunnel workers and cleaning the offices in the evenings. Weekend time might have been spent teaching his children how a car worked, or how to build a shed or do major repairs on a house. Bill was extremely intelligent had a strong curiosity about the way things worked, and he passed this down, too.

Life in Australia lasted for almost nine years. Unfortunately, Marian never quite settled, even while Bill enjoyed it there. He was a giving and considerate man though, and while it wouldn’t have been his choice, they gave up Australia to come back to the UK. 

Bill’s daughter Margaret, or Meg as you best know her, was aged nineteen by then and stayed in Australia. Leaving her behind was a terrible wrench for Bill. In speaking of her dad, Meg says that he passed many values and attributes onto her, kindness, generosity, independence and optimism being just some of those. In Meg’s words, “Dad has always been an inspiration to me and I am thankful for his guidance and wisdom. 

Back in the UK, Bill and Marian came back to Tameside and he started working for the local councils, as a clerk of works and also managing the sewage systems. He retired early due to ill health, and then he and Marian went to live in Llandudno. This was where the couple had honeymooned, and they loved it there, staying happily for the next twenty five years. 

During his retirement, Bill became involved with the local Christ Church where Marian played the organ. As well, he took up watercolour painting and started teaching it at the local hospice. 

Bill had the right qualities for teaching, being such a patient and forgiving man who believed in people and their abilities to achieve. He also had a good sense of humour, and a big desire to help people. This was to Marian’s frustration many a time, when Bill would provide help where it wasn’t needed, but liked to feel useful.

Another source of frustration for Marian – except for when he had a big win – was Bill’s obsession with the horse racing. Bill learnt a lesson early in their marriage, though, when he went out with money to buy fish, and came home with neither fish nor money. From there on, Bill was very careful with placing small bets. 

However, he studied the races intently, and he knew the horses and jockeys. He was able to strategically and insightfully work out the best bets to place. Gerry says that he remembers in the last couple of years, proudly taking Bill back to the bookies to collect his fifty to one each way bet, where the punters told him he was just lucky. But he still only put a fiver on the next bet, though often collecting hundreds.  

In Gerry’s words, it was “A lovely hobby, not a vice, and it allowed Dad an immense source of pride in his deep and broad knowledge of horse racing.”

When Marian became ill, he was her primary carer for two years, giving up everything to look after the love of his life. Bill lost Marian six years ago, and Ali says “it knocked the stuffing right out of him.” 

Marian’s loss was a massive blow for Bill, but in time, he started to find his feet again, being the survivor and fighter that he was. For a short while, Bill moved to Australia, then back to the UK where he lived independently in Alderley Edge for a time, before finally moving back to Ashton again. 

He kept himself busy – always doing something with an inquisitive mind and an ability to be practical also. He enjoyed lettering and calligraphy, and continued his painting. He listened to classical music because of Marian’s love for it, and he absolutely adored his grandchildren, even if distances meant he couldn’t see them as much as he liked. 

Bill was a kind man. A clever man. A family man. He had dearly loved his wife, and had made sacrifices for her. He was proud of all his children, and his many grandchildren. He was so proud of his daughters by marriage. Welcoming them into the family and reminding them of how their presence has  enhanced our family . He had the richness in life of seeing a family he loved grow and find their own happiness. 

Bill will leave a lasting impression in your hearts, for all those special qualities that made him the man you knew and cared about. He will be very much missed, but he will very affectionately remembered. 

Thank you.

I shall now share a message in a short poem, which is one of how that love you had is never gone.

Poem: Love lives on

Those we love

are never really lost to us – 

we feel them

in so many special ways – 

through friends

they always cared about

and dreams they left behind, 

in beauty that they added to our days…

in words of wisdom we still carry with us

and memories that never will be gone…

Those we love are never really lost to us – 

For everywhere their special love lives on.

There will now be a piece of music to allow you to take a few moments for reflection and to spend some time thinking of Bill.

Reflection music:

Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring - Robin White

Committal:

Please stand.

We have come to the part of the service where it is time to bid a final farewell to Bill. You have been remembering him for the hard-working, family man he was. He had an obsession for horse-racing, he enjoyed painting, and had been blessed with a life that was filled with the love of good people. Please now dedicate these warm thoughts of Bill into your hearts and minds.

[curtains closed]

We now commit the body of William Pridham onto its final journey to become one with the elements, letting it find its place within the cycle of nature. Wishing this were not so, but knowing that everything worthy about Bill’s life will never be lost. Feeling sorrow, but understanding that a part of Bill will always remain with you, even while his physical presence is gone.

Be thankful that you had your life touched by Bill’s, and had an opportunity to know him. You shared a part of your existence with Bill, and whatever meaning that brings for you, it is something which cannot be taken away. Allow Bill to go now in peace. 

Please be seated.

Closing words:

Bill was a wonderful husband, a devoted father and grandfather, a brother, and an uncle, and he leaves a lot to be remembered by. His fifty pence bets on the horses, his stock expressions like “Oh no, not really!”, his sharp wit, his love for watercolour painting, and his curious mind.

Bill was supportive and helpful to his family, and to others, even while that might have been too helpful, at times. There are his values, as well - his strong work ethic, and how he taught forgiveness and right from wrong, and how he showed his children to love, and be loved.

You have your funny recollections of Bill, and the heart-warming ones. These memories will stay with you, and allow his spirit, the essence of who Bill was, to remain with you, also. He will live on in his children, Margaret, Gerry, Michael and Alison, and in his grandchildren too. There is something of Bill in all of you.

Rejoice in the life that Bill had, and in everything that he has created for the generations that live on in his way. 

On behalf of the family, thank you for being here to honour the life of Bill.  

Closing music: Nocturne - Chopin