Shelagh Trustram

John and I moved to Lincoln in 2007 — that's eight years ago — and we went to start looking after our family more. Our family was expanding and we'd been doing many things for many years on a more national level, and we felt it was time to go to our family. We went with every intention of coming to events and coming to the annual gathering every year, but somehow it didn't happen. Different things happened with our health. I've had four knee replacements on my right knee — and I think it must be because my name begins with W, Weedall; I think they give the oldest knees to the ones whose name begins with W. The first three were pretty useless, and finally I got a nice surgeon who tried to put it right on the fourth one, so I am going to trust him to do the one on the other leg.

That was a problem every year, something happening. John also had two strokes — one year and then the next — so we couldn't come then either. And then just as we thought the pattern was about to change, John had a diagnosis of cancer of the stomach. Sometimes bad things happen, but John and I always take the view that as we are the only ones in our family who are following and attending our True Parents, then naturally we're going to have to pay the price for that. With that kind of view, our harsh circumstances always became a blessing, and we were happy to go that kind of course.

John had an operation to remove his stomach and he had great hope that this was going to be a good outcome. Just the week before he had his stomach removed — I think Franklin might have told a few people this joke, but John being Johnny has a very humorous attitude — I'd given him a flying lesson for his birthday, and I said, "You better take that flying lesson." A week before the operation, he had his flying lesson and said to the instructor, "I'm having my flying lesson now because next week I won't have a stomach for it." This was John. He took it all in his stride and we did think he was going to recover well.

After a few months it appeared that wasn't going to be so. His cancer came back and then we knew he only had a few months. This was a time to gather everybody together and really use it as a witness. You can witness to your life, but you can also witness to your death, because death isn't the end. It was a time when our family could come together, we could talk, we could share things, they could get things off their chest and make peace — because sometimes children and dads don't always have peace — and it was a very wonderful moment in our lives. It was a great witness to our life of faith, and also to what happens when you're going to go to the next stage.

When we talked about the Seonghwa ceremony, we decided it should be in Lincoln because our family is very scattered and it takes about four and a half hours to get to the farm, and some of them are even further away. We had to make the decision about what was right for our family, and we decided Lincoln — and it was the right decision for us. We all have our own courses, so I'm not saying everybody does the same, but this was right for us. His Seonghwa ceremony became a great witness to many, many people.

No matter how old John was, he always took a daily walk, and he'd meet people and always make friends with them. That was his life of faith — witnessing to people all the time in the most simple way. These people approached me when they knew the ceremony was coming — "Can we come?" And I said, "Of course you can come." After the ceremony, they came up to me and said, "We don't know how to tell you this, but we should be feeling sad — but we all feel so happy and so uplifted." And this was a real testimony.

Then there was the phenomenon of his photograph. This photograph was taken by our granddaughter in a very casual moment, but we all agreed it captured John's essence — it had his cheeky smile, he had his twinkly eyes — and this was on the order of service. These friends that he met on his little walks, afterwards I met them and they said, "We've got the order of service in our kitchen, and we talk to John all the time." This was true of all of our family: we have his picture on our screensavers and our phones, because it's just him — it's just how he was. This is the phenomenon of John.

Even one of my daughter's friends attended the Seonghwa with her little son. Just two weeks before the first anniversary of John's Seonghwa, this little boy — he's only four — said, "Mummy, isn't it time John's birthday is coming up? You know, when we had that party and we put him in the ground." She said she didn't know how he remembered, but he knew the party was due again. This is John — this is the way he was.

What about life after John's passing? This is what Franklin asked me to speak about. When he said, "Can you give a testimony?", I thought, "Why me? For eight years I haven't been involved in any events or many major things — what do you want me to talk about?" He said, "Talk about life after John." Well, there's life after John — and John's still here, of course, isn't he? But one thing after John's passing that really hit me was liberation.

When you liberate your spouse, it creates a very different feeling from liberating your ancestors — it's very real. I realised we'd done quite a few liberations, in fact quite a lot of them, but for almost eight years we hadn't done any. Not long before John passed, he actually said, "You know, we should do something about that." So I made the determination that before his hundred-day ceremony was up, I went up to 210 generations, because I really felt: this is real. I can't ignore this any longer.

I miss John very, very much, and I was overwhelmed with the depth of feeling I had about that. Every day when I have my little Hoon Dok Hae, I report to John — I tell him what's happening with the family. I say, "Get the ancestors to help this one and that one." I'm not a person who sees people or gets that sort of visual experience, but this little Hoon Dok Hae experience is very real to me — talking to John.

John was a poet. Over the years — I've been married to him forty-six years — he used to write poetry all the time, and I kept coming across little scraps of paper where he'd written a poem here and there. I always have to put them in books. I found poems after he'd passed. One was about a period when he lost his memory — because after his stroke and also when he became ill, sometimes the memory was not so good — but in a lucid moment he'd written this very funny poem about losing his memory and looking for it everywhere. I just felt there was such humour in this poem. And then I found another one, and it was for our children: it was about not grieving after he'd gone. I realised he was leaving these little treasures for me to find, and it's very poignant.

Our life is eternal, and we will spend our life together in eternity. So one thing that is important — if you think about it — is your spouse. This is the person you're going to spend your eternity with, so don't you think it's important to give a little attention to perfecting our love with our spouse? One of the things I find difficult is that now John's not with me, I find this overwhelming sadness. I wondered why, and in one Hoon Dok Hae I got the answer in True Father's words: "When a woman's husband dies, she experiences a big void in part of her life. The fortune of heaven and earth protects that which beats in accord with its rhythm. But when a husband dies, that rhythm is lost. All the forces of heaven that he embodied is swept away. This sweeping away is experienced as pain."

Some people here may identify with that. If I give one piece of advice to couples, it's that we should really treasure love — treasure love so that we can have a love that beats in accord with heaven. This is what I felt through that reading. It would be a great mistake if we didn't do that, because your eternal life is with your spouse. Many times I was thinking how much I've missed all the people I know in this church — how I love to hear stories, to hear the news, to see how people are growing, the second generation taking responsibilities. I love to hear that. Sometimes I've had small experiences with John.

When the handover ceremony was taking place, I was so excited and so happy to see this momentous occasion when the second generation was taking over the baton of the British movement. I was watching it on my laptop and I said to John, "John, look at them all, look at the people in the audience. We would have been there, we would see all the people. Look at Matthew, he's taking over this responsibility. I wish you could see it." Suddenly my screen saver flashed up with his picture. There was John's face. It happened two or three times during that time. I thought, yes, he's watching.

I went to visit one of my granddaughters in Liverpool. I was telling her a little bit about that experience, and she told me she'd had a spiritual experience with her granddad. Then she went out of the room and she'd left me with the youngest of her children, one of my great-granddaughters, who was only ten months old. This little one was in one of these baby walkers. Suddenly she stopped to laugh and was looking around and twisting the baby walker around — she was enthralled, absolutely chuckling away. I said, "Wow, your granddad's come to see you." This was a great-granddaughter who hadn't been born when he passed. It was just a really beautiful moment. I could see that John was being very playful with her, as he always was with grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Our family is expanding — we have eleven grandchildren and six great-grandchildren. Love goes on, and John's love is very much present in our hearts. Being in Lincoln, I miss being part of the church community. I'm very grateful to Franklin and Cecilia because they keep me informed and they come and visit me. Recently we had a visit and we went on the Castle Wall. God was very good to us when we went to Lincoln. The Lincoln area is very flat, but Lincoln City on the hill has the castle and the cathedral, and we live just near there. He put us on the top so we can look down.

I do miss very much the community that we have here. I do feel that the opportunity to develop this heart of love is what God has given us — this deep love that John had for his family, which we are able to pass on in them. It's important to continue to strive to be this person of love, to be able to experience the beat and rhythm of love shared with John, but also to perpetuate it in our ever-expanding family. There are a few points that I realise are important in my life. One is, of course, a life of faith. We need a daily life of faith. I can't say I'm perfect at that — I'm on my own, so it's just a very small little Hoon Dok Hwe — but I try to keep all the conditions and the timing. Our daily life of faith is important.

What is also important is to be grateful — especially to our True Parents and True Mother. As husband and wife, we are one. Many people, I think, got a little bit confused when Father passed. But we should not think that way, because Mother and Father are one. When we see Mother, we're seeing Father. This is so important, to really be grateful for that and to really appreciate the incredible work that True Mother is doing, and to pray for her to have a long life to do that as well. Because we need it — we need Parents still.

It's also important to witness to people, to reach out to people, even in the smallest way — like John did on his daily walks. It doesn't matter how you do it; you can have a great effect on the lives of people. So these are the treasures that John passed to me, and which I try to pass on now to our family and our community. I hope in the future, when I get this other knee done, that I'll be coming here every year — that I won't have an eight-year gap any longer. I really am very grateful that I can get round to talking to you all, the people I've missed. And again, you are the face of God.