William Charles McLachlan

William, Bill, Mac died peacefully at home on 24th July 2007, surrounded by his family.

About

Retired dental surgeon, beloved husband, father of four, grandfather of nine and friend.

Born 5th August 1928, died 24th July 2007, aged 78.

With help, I hope to be able to put together a narrative that will make some order of growing up in Plumstead (next door to the girl he would marry), evacuation to Torquay, with mention of explosive experiments at Torquay Grammar School, and the meaning of "Salus et Felicitas". National service which involved time in Catterick amongst other places and I believe, a subscription to Peace News. Germany saw barter for a Zeiss Ikon camera that went on to record an incredible variety of landscapes, as well as decades of family life, before latterly giving way to 35mm and then digital.

Training and a working life in dental practice, until retirement at 65.

Homes in Blackheath, Sidcup, Brentwood and Padstow, with close friends acquired at each.

Passions, including gardening and garden wildlife, photography, Russian language, literature and people.

Travel, from an epic journey to Venice in an Austin A30, Yorkshire, Cornwall, Scotland, trips to Russia, Norway, and in recent years all over Australia.


Service

The funeral was held at St Petroc's church, Padstow, Cornwall, on Wednesday 1st August, and after in the Church Rooms.

Think not in grief that he is gone,
But in thankfulness he was

Adagio - from Mozart's clarinet concerto in A major
A Prayer at Bedtime - John Garner - Sung by Alison Rose
A Nightingale in a Dream - Spoken by Fiona Hamilton

On a high hill I was sleeping and heard your voice, O nightingale
My soul could hear it even in my deepest sleep -
Now resounding, now echoing, now moaning,
Now laughing in my ear from far away;
And while I lay in Callisto's embrace,
Songs' sighs, cries and whistling
Delighted me in my sweet sleep.
If, when I lie after my death,
In tedious, endless sleep,
These songs, alas, will no longer reach my ear as they do now,
And if I no longer hear the sounds
Of happiness and gaiety, of dancing, of choirs and of glory -
Then I may as well enjoy life on earth,
Kiss my beloved more often,
And hearken to the sounds of the nightingale.

Our Lord - Kedrov - Solglasie Male Voice Choir of St Petersburg
From Wind, Sand and Stars - Antoine de St Exupery

It is only when we become conscious of our part in life, however modest that we shall be happy. Only then will we be able to live life in peace and die in peace, for only this lends meaning to life and death. Death is sweet, when it comes in its time and its place, when it is part of the order of things, when the old peasant of Provence, at the end of his reign, remits into the hands of his sons his parcel of goats and olive trees in order that they in turn transmit them to their sons. When one is part of a peasant lineage, one's death is only half a death. Each life in turn bursts like a pod and sends forth its seed.

In Tears of Grief - Bach, St Matthew Passion

 

Stone

You can shed tears that he is gone
or you can smile because he has lived.
You can close your eyes and pray that he'll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all he's left.
Your heart can be empty because you can't see him
or you can be full of the love you shared.
You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.
You can remember him and only that he's gone
or you can cherish his memory and let it live on.
You can cry and close your mind,
be empty and turn your back
or you can what Bill'd want:
smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Donations in lieu of flowers raised an impressive sum for the two charities:
Two Shelterboxes were sent following the floods in Kathmandu.




Reflections

This is intended as a dynamic book of remembrance. Please send any contributions to the address below.

Email Contributions

From a bunch of family

Adrian, Jan, Laura and Mick and their children Tabby, Bruno, Alex, Lachie, Tom, Dan, Carmen, Billy and Alfie, would like to share some memories of their gorgeous, incredible Dad and Grandad.

Friends have often reflected to us how idyllic our childhood sounded, and we think it really was. Our friends, many of whom are here today, were always welcomed with open arms at home, were fed and watered and loved by Mum and Dad and shared many wonderful holidays in our beloved Padstow over the years. We are very grateful for the enormous support you have offered our family over these last few months and we are also grateful to our exceptional partners Mel, Neil, Mick and Sarah for being there for us throughout.

When Dad was first diagnosed with pancreatic cancer in March of this year he embraced the advice offered to him by the Consultant, to enjoy the “Golden Days” when they came. Thankfully there have been many golden days and golden moments over the last few months, when the family has been together and shared enormous love and much laughter. These have added to our golden memories of a life lived with love, goodness, passion and humour. Dad said a number of times over the last 4 months that he was very lucky and that is the word that keeps coming back to us, that we are and always have been just incredibly lucky - lucky to have had Dad as our Dad; lucky to have each other; lucky to have had the time together to say goodbyes.

We all remember Dad’s jokes - sometimes spontaneous, sometimes taking at least a day to perfect, sometimes groanworthy! Some of the grandchildren seem to have inherited his love of a good joke. We also remember his ability to look on “the bright side of life” (he often quoted the last line from Sir John Betjeman’s poem “Seaside Golf” - “and splendour, splendour everywhere”; this really was how he saw life.  He was incredibly generous always (in our family it’s a fight to see who pays for something, not who doesn’t pay!). This is in stark contrast to his inability to spend money on himself. He was a very unmaterialistic man and loved the simple pleasures in life, his family, sailing, gardening, photography and art, the Russian language and culture,  the wildlife that came into his gardens including the foxes in Sidcup and the hedgehogs and ducks in Padstow. He also loved to travel and since his retirement has seen so much of the world, bringing back photos and videos so that we have been able to experience his travels vicariously. We have all also been shaped by his political passion and activism and hope that one day his hopes for this country and for a peaceful world are realized.

His grandchildren have thankfully all had time with him to build incredible memories, which we will endeavour to perpetuate, including those special “hot towel cuddles” after bath with the rib banjo for Alex and Lachie and Tabby; neck kisses and endless smiles for Alfie and Bruno; Billy demanding  and willingly being given “broom broom” in the car (beware 2-year-olds hooning around in the car park afterwards!). Alex and Lachie will always remember their hours spent on Grandad’s lap reciting the names of the Russian poets and authors. We remember a very small Tom and Dan doing “gardener’s club” with their granddad, naming all the plants in the garden and Tom following granddad whilst he was lawnmowing saying “all I want is conversation!” Tom, Dan and Carmen have also had the most incredible and solid male role model in their grandfather.

Above all else, he has loved Mum, almost from the day she was born. He has always worshipped, admired and adored her and together they have been the most incredible team, providing us with love, security and comfort in abundance which will stand us in good stead when we go forward. Know Dad, that we will look after Mum and each other. You were and still are a lovely, amazing, beautiful man.

 

Text from a grandson

Think how many amazing grandkids he has who will grow up idolising him in so many ways

BT

We are all, at our age, in the waiting room. I hope we can find the grace you have shown, when our time comes. Bill has a life and a family to be proud of, and they, a father worthy a thousand times over of their love.

JM

I don't want you to go, but if you must, may I thank you for all the life enhancing things you have given me by the bucketload. Trips to ancient chapels in Essex, wonderful drives and visits to bays and gardens in Cornwall, the joy of a new part of Yorkshire and laughter, so much laughter. Thank you also for making me feel special whenever we meet and for including us in your family occasions. You have been blessed with such wonderful children, who in their turn have given us all pleasure with their children.

DP

Working for you, Mac, and the practice, changed my life. You and June gave me a different perspective on life; your warmth and values will always be with me. Also, we had fun, didn't we?

CL

I miss the comfort and genuine warmth you exude, together with your interest and concern for people. I have never known anybody who has as much integrity as you. I send you my respect and admiration, but most of all, I send you my love and thanks.

RW

(On Mac's retirement) Dear June, I meant to write to you ages ago , but I did want to tell you what a tremendous person Mac is and how very much I miss his quiet presence next door to me at 40 Harley Street. He exhibited - and still does - all the good honest qualities that mark out the best human beings.

LF

If love and willpower have anything to do with it, you will surely recover, because you are truly, deeply loved by so many people - mutual friends always ask for news of you and without fail, follow it by "Such a lovely man."

JW

I want to let you know how much your friendship has meant to me, over, it must be, about 40 years. You have touched my life, certainly, and you will never know how many others, through your quiet kindness and caring interest in whatever I have been doing.