By LACHLAN MOORHEAD
Husband and dad beyond compare…
AS THE young primary school girl wept inside the church, her mother placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Her tears fell onto her school uniform, dampening the green Maramba Primary T-shirt worn by so many of the young children who attended their principal’s funeral on Friday.
From the screens set up inside the Berwick Church of Christ, and amid the lilting tones of Van Morrison, the late Andrew Groh’s smiling face looked down upon the hundreds of people who had gathered to pay respects to Narre Warren’s Maramba Primary School principal, who passed away from cancer on 23 May.
He was 60.
The church was packed, with many forced to stand on the sides and at the back of the room, despite the cavernous space.
Andrew’s wife, Alison, and daughter, Tahlia, delivered moving tributes to their husband and father, while his sons Jordan and Lachlan read their dad’s eulogy.
Maramba assistant principal Sue Peterken, a close friend of Andrew’s who shared his love of teaching, also offered her own touching tribute to the man who was loved by so many.
Andrew Patrick Groh was born on 17 March 1955, in Rose Park, Adelaide, and at four months old was adopted by Stefan and Cecilia Groh, immigrants from war-torn Hungary and Germany desperate to start a family in their new home.
Andrew began his teaching career at Rosewood Downs Primary School in 1976.
After a number of years in the classroom, he became a specialist Physical Education teacher, before moving to Nilma Primary School, then Carrum Downs, and later arriving at Berwick Primary in 1984.
It was here where he met Alison.
“On his first day at Berwick Primary School he met a skinny, permed, physical education teacher in yellow overalls and for a reason none of us could ever understand, she took his breath away,” Lachlan and Jordan read in the Eulogy.
“Dad said he felt as if he’d known her from another life.”
The boys said their dad had always managed to put his own problems aside and saw the best in people, even during his short illness.
It was a beautiful way to approach life, they said, accept the bad and appreciate the good – “because life has plenty of both”.
“I don’t see your death as the end of you, I know you are just as present in my life now as you were before,” Lachlan said.
“There is so much I could say Foss, but as you would say, I have talked too much.
“I will treasure the small moments and the big ones, know that I will always take you with me wherever I should go, old boy, and your presence will never go unnoticed.
“I love you, old man, and you will never be forgotten.”
Nearing the end of her own tribute to Andrew, Alison read a poem she’d heard from a film, originally penned by W.H. Auden, which, she said, she knew “would be exactly how I felt if I was to ever lose him.”
“He was my north, my south, my east and west,” she read.
“My working week and my Sunday rest,
“My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
“I thought that love would last forever, I was wrong,
“The stars are not wanted now, put out everyone,
“Pick up the moon and dismantle the sun,
“Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood, for nothing now can ever come to any good.”
But despite her grief, despite everyone’s sadness, Alison vowed to continue on, and promised to take her family with her.
“Even though that’s how I feel at this time, my love for my darling will last forever,” she said.
“And even though this has absolutely devastated me, and my beautiful children, and grandchildren, I promise to keep going in honour of the beautiful life we created.”
