Thelma Marcuson Tribute

Gosh, so many people come to say goodbye to my Momma. Thank you so much for coming. Well, she was quite a character and today we are here to mark her passing and celebrate the life of a remarkable woman and for me, a most unusual and interesting mother.

I discussed the subject of what to do “After” with Thelma on several occasions, the most recent was some time early last year. It went something like this.

“So Momma what do you want to happen after you die?”

‘You know very well that I want to be cremated”

(Tread carefully Alan she’s in combat mode)

“Yes, but what do you want us to do with your ashes?”

“Throw them in the rubbish bin of course!”

I paused, slightly stunned, even though I have come to know her quite well after 64 years.

“Ma, you’re not serious?

“I am quite serious and I expect you to do as I say?”

It was ever thus!

“And your funeral?”

“No fuss. No God. I don’t want a big funeral with all the family and friends - and I don’t want you to bring them trooping back here to make a mess of the place. It’s all a lot of nonsense and quite unnecessary.”

How to respond? Tough it out. Meet fire with fire. After all I am her son.

“Well Momma if you’re around to arrange it that way you can do as you like but since you won’t be – and you’ve always told me that, “ when your dead your dead” - your funeral will be for us – the living. Bob and I will do what we think is best.”

No response. Amazing. I pressed on.

“And I’d like to have your ashes mixed into the glazes of a few pots for the family.”

I could see that the idea appealed to her and we would later talk about it several times.

So her ashes will not be going into the rubbish bin.

Instead one of Thelma’s great potter friends, Janet Rogers who worked with her in the studio at Brookfield is going to glaze and fire a few of the unfinished pots that she made and never managed to complete.

A little of Thelma’s ashes will be mixed into the glaze she uses and those pots will be kept by Bobby’s, Merle’s and my family. I can think of no better physical memorial to my mothers’ memory – and of course the hundreds of other pots she made, wherever they are.

Thus we are gathered here today, as Bob’s and my last act of defiance and disobedience of one or two of our mother’s wishes. We feel very comfortable with the decision to give her a good send off and I am sure that all of you here today will agree.

Thelma’s declining years were not her best. The loss of Neil after 60 years of marriage, followed by a spell in hospital after breaking her leg and her steadily deteriorating eyesight all contributed to her wish to take leave of this world. She did not hesitate to discuss the matter with her family on many occasions, even exhorting me a couple of times to help her on her way. During one of these ridiculous conversations I had with her (the whole idea of it appalled me) and I was desperate for an out, I came up with what I thought would put an end to the conversation.

“ But Ma, I could end up going to jail”

“Only for a little while darling.” was her instant reply.

She had a wicked sense of humour in both the traditional and modern use of the adjective. When I was younger, she was just my Ma and I knew nothing else. I always knew she was extremely forthright and direct. She was a tough character – wanna see my scars? She would broach any subject often to the embarrassment of those around her – especially her sons.

With her unnervingly accurate insights, a sometimes cruel tongue and rapier wit, there was not much you could get away with - or hide from her – a huge disadvantage for a teenage boy.

I have to admit that it was not until I was in my 40s that I fully came to appreciate what an extraordinary mother she was.

Even in the last weeks of her life, her sense of humour and wit were never far from the surface.

We had our last giggle together about 10 days before she died. I spent the last 2 weeks of her life with her at Brookfield and was with her when she died. It was a very precious time for me, a privilege, and I will treasure it forever.

Anyway, one afternoon I went into her room to see how she was. I leant over her bed. She woke up.
“I think I’ve gone,” she croaked.

“I hope not Momma, because I’m here too.”

“Oh god” she replied “Can’t someone give me a kick up the backside out of here.”

She was soon to have her wish and I can report that she seemed very much at peace with herself in her last weeks and very loving and grateful to those around her.

But to talk a little of happier times…

Thelma was the best friend anyone could have and she valued her friends enormously. One of her great interpersonal skills was to have friends across all age groups – it is one of the reasons why so many of her friends are here today - to say goodbye to an 89 year old woman.

But there were only 3 - now 2 of us - who knew her as a mother. In some respects being her eldest son proved to be a dubious honour - a subject I will not dwell on today.

But for all our conflicts she was my adored and darling Momma, a woman of boundless qualities and by and large, a hugely positive influence on me.

As my late brother Timmy and I agreed one Sunday afternoon long ago – as we observed our mother’s attentiveness to her friends during one of the endless garden parties at Bompas Road, it might have been a better deal to have been her friend rather than a son.

The Bompas Road garden parties have taken on legendary proportions. She continued the tradition at Brookfield although on a somewhat reduced scale. She went to extraordinary lengths, providing wonderful meals and hospitality for countless friends and relatives.

Needless to say we, her close family, were always dragooned into assisting on these occasions and heaven help you if did not do what she wanted, exactly as she insisted. Thelma was a perfectionist in all things and learning the complex protocol of what went in which pot or dish was something I never mastered. But hey, in a potter’s home there were lots to choose from!

I am told that I am very like her. I take it as a compliment – most times.

Thelma and I had a lot in common and we shared many interests. I doubt very much whether my lifelong obsession with rare and beautiful things would have developed were it not for the influence of her creativity and a love of beauty - and I might add, the influence of her gregarious nature. Unfortunately my talents - such as they are - lie only in aesthetic appreciation and connoisseurship rather than in the creation of beautiful things as she did.


Looking back I can see that motherhood, homebuilding and supporting my dad as he grew his business was never going to be enough for her.

Pottery was the making of Thelma and her discovery of her craft transformed her from a frustrated artist and homemaker into a hard working and dedicated artist.

I went from being “…you’re Neil’s boy…” to “…so you’re Thelma’s eldest son?” as her reputation grew as one of South Africa’s finest potters.

We’ll will all remember her for her beautiful pots and unique personality. She touched many lives. And I am hugely proud of her.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all those who helped care for Thelma during her decline. First and foremost to Bobby and Gail, who took much of the strain of Thelma’s daily needs, especially when Diane and I moved to Brussels over 3 years ago.

Great thanks and appreciation must also go to the heroic efforts of her carers, "Team Thelma – sponsored by Movicol”, Theo, Emma, Julie and Letti who are with here us today. They did a difficult and demanding job with the utmost kindness, care and love and we as a family are deeply grateful to them.

A huge thank-you must also go to the rest of the family, and most especially her other daughter’s-in-law, Jill, Merle, and Diane for helping to care for her and being there for her on countless occasions over the decades.

Thelma had an unusually close relationship with all of them and was indeed fortunate to have sons whose choice of partners was so impeccable. I guess she set very high standards.

Dr Stephen Graham of Parliament Hill Surgery was her GP – and Neil’s too. He looked after these 2 very demanding souls with remarkable, unyielding patience and good humour. He developed a close relationship with Thelma and he - like many others - endured her skilled interrogations into his personal & family life.

Denise O’Malley and more recently Helen Longhurst of the Palliative Care Team at the Royal Free Hospital came into the picture about 9 months ago and they too played a significant part in looking after her and advising the family.

The district nurses from Gospel Oak visited her every day in her last weeks and were with us at her bedside when she died. They too attended to her needs with professionalism and sensitivity. Who says the NHS doesn’t do a good job!

I would also like to thank Thelma’s neighbours at Brookfield, some of whom, like Jerry, Helen, Julius and Raphael Judah, Ilana Perleman, Sophie Baker and Marsha Sanders became close and intimate friends. They kept an eye out for her, visited her regularly and were extremely tolerant of her sometimes, how shall I put it,… idiosyncratic ways.

For the rest of today let us focus our memories of my mother not as she was at the end but as she was at the height of her powers, a force of nature - the great she elephant of our clan.

Thelma’s passing leaves a great gaping hole at the heart of our family. She was the dominant and dominating figure in our lives. Our matriarch.

Quite what we will do without her - only time will tell.

AVE ATQUE VALE