‘Order of Service’ - Nina’s Funeral 17th January 2009

Paul Robeson – Ballad of Joe Hill

We should ask not how she died, but how she lived. Not what she gained, but what she gave. Should this not be how we measure the worth of a friend?

We have come here today from many different places, some far away, not only to bid a sad farewell to Nina Fishman, but more importantly to celebrate, honour and pay tribute for her life, work and the gift of her friendship. And by doing this to offer comfort, support and our sympathy to her family; to her beloved husband Phil, her brothers Danny and David and their families. I have been asked to say, in Phil's words, that "They seriously appreciate that you've all come". You are all very welcome.

I am David Phillips. And like you, I am a friend of Nina's. Nina was (is) my oldest and closest friend. And that is a privilege that I am proud to share with you and the many others who cannot be here today.

"People will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but they will never forget how you made them feel". [Maya Angelou]

Nina made us all feel good. There was no day so bleak, no weather so dark that Nina's arrival couldn't improve it. Nina was not only a good friend, but was good at being a friend. She put a great deal of time into her friends, into making them, but more importantly into keeping them.

And it is therefore not a stranger, but her friends who will speak of her this afternoon, those who truly knew her and who will share their memories of their friend, our friend Nina. In the time available this will, of necessity, not tell it all. You will also appreciate that this is going to be difficult for us, so I hope you will understand and forgive if we stumble or falter a little on the way.

We will hear from Margaret Simpson, one of Nina's oldest friends, I think she trumps the rest of us as she knew Nina when she was 16. Then we will hear Ben, the son of her friends Jan and Paul O'Mahony, someone who Nina has known all his life, then Donald Sassoon who wrote such a warm and splendid obituary in the Guardian, will speak of her life in London and finally Chris Williams will talk about Swansea.

Firstly, Margaret. Margaret was unexpectedly taken ill last night and cannot be here in person, so she has asked me to stand in for her. This is what she wanted to say.
then

Ben, then
Donald, then
Chris.

Of course, I too will miss Nina. I'll miss her phone calls, ringing up with some bit of news or to find out what's going on or to invite us to meet someone she thought we'd like or simply to come over for food. I'll miss her unexpected visits when she was out for one of her enormous walks and just thought she'd call in for a cup of tea. She expected to be welcomed and of course she was.

I'll miss too her capacity to eat for Britain. She brought the same enthusiasm and dedication to the table as she did with everything else. From the first, she was for me the personification of the 'Eater Upper', a character in N F Simpson's play, One Way Pendulum. She wouldn't eat anything, Nina liked good food, but given it, she'd eat it. All of it. And yours too if there was any left!

Nina was serious but was also great fun. She gave herself to laughter as fully as she did everything. She was a great audience.

Nina was generous; generous with her intelligence and learning, although never battering you over the head with it, well perhaps if you opposed her in debate. I recall her taking issue at a seminar with one prominent MP (not the one here today) who had asserted that since Russian tanks posed no threat to Britain, they shouldn't inform NATO defence policy. Nina suggested, icily politely, that those people living within drive time of the Russian border might take a rather different view.

And Nina was generous; generous with her enthusiasm and energy, generous with things, if you liked something she'd give it to you, as Ben said she'd get tickets and take you to something she thought you'd like – or she thought you should like!
Above all Nina was unstintingly generous with her time. Even in her last weeks, when desperately ill, she made time for the almost constant flow of friends wanting (but desperately not wanting) to take their leave.

And it was that generosity that led Nina & Phil, to commission a 'free' performance of the Verdi Requiem. Nina had 'decided' that she wanted to hear the Verdi Requiem before she died, but a planned performance could not be found in the time she thought she had available. So Nina did what Nina always did, if no-one was doing what was necessary – she'd do it herself and so, of course, she did. The concert will be performed on Sunday January 17^th 2010 as planned, as Nina was adamant that it should go ahead whether she made it or not. The Requiem will now fulfil its proper purpose.

We began this short service with a song from Paul Robeson. Nina did love his voice – many times playing him at the wrong moment. Some of you will have been at parties that were brought to a standstill when Nina nipped upstairs and played Robeson, or alternatively Edda Moser singing Queen of the Night! We are going to end with another song, The Internationale. A song that is not only appropriate, but one that was very important to Nina. And one which reduced her to tears every time she heard it. I am going to ask all of you to join in and sing it with gusto. Doesn't matter if you can't sing – give it all you've got. If time is short we will begin to leave the chapel whilst we are singing. I'd like those of who remain to carry on singing. The coffin will remain for you to make your goodbyes as you leave. Phil would then like you all to join him and the family at the Grand Hotel by the station.

The comfort of having a friend or a sister may be taken away, but not that of having had one – and we were all privileged to have had the gift of Nina in life. So before we sing, I'd like to take offer you space, a few brief moments, for your own thoughts and memories of Nina and a prayer if that is what you want to do.

Long Pause

Would you please stand

Internationale
End