As part of the Caledonian Forest Regeneration Programme,
this grove of trees is planted with deepest love and gratitude for the life of Gerry O'Hagan.
Being a joiner Gerry worked all his days with wood and loved the natural world, surrounding us on the croft
not only with sheep, hens, ducks and ponies but with dogs, ferrets and pigeons. He loved his garden and planted fruit trees he even managed to grow peaches and grapes in the Highlands - and as he loved to cook he grew many vegetables for making his famous pots of soup. You could drop in at any time of year and be guaranteed a plate of soup even in summer!
He loved working on his croft, building many things with wood and close to his heart were his beloved Fergie and Massey Ferguson 165 tractors and his little blue Landrover. But these were distant second to his love for his precious family and his pride at being an old Argyll and Sutherland Highlander.
He loved life and lived it to the full, although he suffered from ill health for over 25 years, and counted it a blessing that he could help others with his words of wisdom, his time, his love and support and with his Glasgow sense of humour - which was legend. Even during his most painful times, which he bore with such fortitude, the wistful notes of his mouthorgan could be heard floating around the croft.
I hear them still.
On behalf of his family and his countless friends who felt privileged to have had him in their midst,
I dedicate these trees to his memory.
Planted by his devoted wife Leslie,
for his dearest sons and grandchildren
Andrew and Nell,
Charles, Claire and Shannon,
Gerry, Rory and Ryan,
Michael, Evie and Michael Junior.
The following poem written by Seamus Heaney was read at Gerry's funeral.
It was read by Gerry's writer son Andrew, a close friend of Seamus.
It is a most appropriate poem to mark the planting of trees into the Scottish soil, especially for Gerry.
Digging
Between by finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.
Under my window, a clean rasping sound
When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:
My father, digging. I look down
Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds
Bends low, comes up twenty years away
Stooping in rhythm through potato drills
Where he was digging.
The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft
Against the inside knee was levered firmly.
He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep
To scatter new potatoes that we picked,
Loving their cool hardness in our hands.
By God, the old man could handle a spade.
Just like his old man.
My grandfather cut more turf in a day
Than any other man on Toner's bog.
Once I carried him milk in a bottle
Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up
To drink it, then fell to right away
Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods
Over his shoulder, going down and down
For the good turf. Digging.
The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap
Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge
Through living rooms roots awaken in my head.
But I've no spade to follow men like them.
Between my finger and my thumb
The squat pen rests.
I'll dig with it.
Seamus Heaney
Donations
In memory of Gerry, six trees from Neil and Frances MacRitchie and their daughters Laura, Sarah, Mary and their families.
with love
Our love as always Leslie x Magnus x and Bunter x
Our love always, Leslie x Magnus x and Bunter x
Our love always Leslie x, Magnus x, Molly x and Bunter x
but was so so happy to have the time I did.
I know you will he looking down at me.
Sleep tight lots of love Evie xxxx
finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,
sermons in stones,
and good in everything.
William Shakespeare
With our love always
Leslie x Magnus x Molly x and Bunter x
But our memories are still strong,
This year we celebrate and remember this day,
New life....wonderful memories always,
XX Andy, Rosemary, Jen Rob and BethXX
Would that you had known one another.
Our love always,
Leslie x, Magnus x, Molly x and Bunter x
Dear Ger,
As another year passes, you are loved and remembered fondly.
We miss your great humour and
your wonderful stories that made us laugh.
With love,
Rosemary & Andy Cosgrove and Jen & Rob McLaren xx
and they will give you back beauty,
cool and fragrant shade and many birds singing.
Our love always,
Leslie, Magnus, Molly and Bunter xxxx
"It is not so much for its beauty that
the forest makes a claim upon men's hearts
that so wonderfully changes and renews a weary spirit."
Robert Louis Stevenson.
What would we give for a moment of time?
Our love always
Leslie, Magnus, Molly and Bunter xxxx
Plants a hope.
For Gerry with love.
Rosemary & Andy, Jen & Rob
xxxx
With love and happy memories, Rosemary, Andy and Jennifer xxx
As the year draws near your presence on your beloved croft is sorely missed.
Remembering the good times.
Love Rosemary, Andy and Jennifer. xxx
'If I could turn upon my finger
the bright ring of time
The now of then, I would bring back again.'
Kathleen Raine
My love always, Leslie
and love from Cairnach, Magnus, Molly and of course Bunter xxxxx
'Cauld blew the bitter-biting north
Upon thy early, humble birth;
Yet cheerfully thou glinted forth
Amid the storm.'
My love always, Leslie x
Missing you sorely are Cairnach, Magnus, Molly and especially Bunter. xxxx
let fortune's bubbles rise and fall;
who sows a field, or trains a flower,
or plants a tree, is more than all."
May your grove forever flourish, Ger.
Love, Rosemary, Andy and Jennifer.
xxx
We miss you. With love, until all the seas gang dry.
Andrew and Nell xx
We loved to visit Millcroft
where we were always made so welcome.
Gerry always took time for our boys,
And then making us 'crack up' with his brilliant stories!!
Thank you so much Gerry for all the fun!!
Barry, Stephanie, Calum, Cian, Fergus & Tully xxxxxx
My love always Leslie
and Cairnach, Magnus, Molly and Bunter.
xxxxx