Service Details
Susanne's funeral will take place on Saturday the 18th of April 2015. There will be a church service at The Church Of Jesus Christ Of Latter-Day Saints, Southridge Drive, Mansfield, Nottinghamshire, NG18 4RJ starting at 10am. She will then be taken to the Mansfield Crematorium for a short goodbye at 11:30. All the family would love you to come to the chapel service if you feel able and would like to attend. Friends and family are also very welcome at the crematorium where the family will say their last goodbyes. Following the internment there will be a light buffet back at the Latter-Day Saint Chapel where we will celebrate the life of Susanne. You are welcome to join us. We would like to make the buffet pot luck and would welcome tribute dishes for Susanne.
If you wish to say a personal last goodbye there will be the option of viewing times on Friday the 17th at the funeral home. Should you wish to visit with Susanne, please contact John Troke to arrange a suitable time.
Susanne was a huge lover of flowers and floral tributes are very welcome. If you wish you can organise those through our undertaker on his floral website, www.cityflowersnottingham.co.uk or however you wish.
Susanne was also a lover of service and you may wish instead to donate towards the McMillan trust who helped in her care in her last illness, thus sharing that blessing with others in the future. Donations can be made by visiting https://www.macmillan.org.uk/Donate/
We are composing a book of remembrance for the family and would be thrilled to include your memories, stories notes or otherwise. If you are attending the funeral the book will be available to write in on the day. If you are unable to attend but wish to share a message, please do so by leaving a message on her memorial page here (http://174.141.233.253/~eturnal/susanne-troke/ - you will need to create an account before you can post, click register at the top of the page) by the end of Friday the 10th April to allow due time for us to have them included in the printing of the book.
We love and appreciate you very much and are grateful for all the love, service and prayers we have benefitted from. You are very dear to our hearts and we extend the warmest love and thanks to you all.
We look forward to sharing in a celebration of her life with you all, whether you attend in person or in spirit.
The Troke Family
Funeral Company
A W Lymm
The Story
Yesterday afternoon, my mum quietly passed away. As many of her family as could quickly gather were there to share her final moments, crowded reverently into her bedroom (a place far too small for that many full-grown Trokes) and, at her request, gently singing some of her favourite hymns.
It's a weird thing, writing a Facebook update like this. I've always maintained that Facebook was for seeing pictures of friends and family, and keeping them updated – and that's the spirit in which I post this. If you want to share a little moment with me, read on...
My mother has always been a large-than-life, truly formidable woman, and as I watched her frail, withered body gently give up its hold on mortality yesterday I felt a tremendous sense of relief for her. The inexorable advance of cancer may have reduced her body, but it did nothing at all to dampen her spirits or diminish her true stature.
So today I am going to pay tribute to the mum that I was always remember throughout this life: This one goes out to the towering matriarch who saw us kids off to school each morning with a “Be good,” and welcomed us back each evening with a kiss and a subtle interview to find out if we had. To the first-aider who picked gravel out of knees when bike accidents took place in the lay-by in Netley Marsh, who tended a million stinging nettle rashes and more than a few broken hearts over the years. Here's to the amazon warrioress who thundered forth from our house to lambaste the strange woman who shouted at seven-year old me so much I wet myself (true story), and who then instructed me in the error of my ways when she realised exactly 'why' I was getting shouted at in the first place. Here's to the wall-juddering shouts of “One,” that would bring five or more children scurrying from the corners of the house and beyond to answer judgement, and also to the outpouring of love and hugs that invariably followed any chastisement we earned.
Here's to the mother whose open door policy led to countless sleep-overs, sometimes with so many brothers, sisters, friends and foster-siblings that the living room floor simply wasn't enough and the tent had to go up in the garden. Here's to dinners that always went just far enough, to sandwich picnics that she made, but wasn't well enough to attend, and to the eternal council “Adam, have you offered your friend anything to eat or drink yet.” Sorry guys.
Here's to the relentless worker, who served in so many church callings that I can barely think to list them; who showed me by example what it is to prepare to teach Sunday School, who drowned a house in colourful cut-outs for Primary lessons and who tended to her sisters so diligently in Relief Society (non-church friends, my mum was a flippin' powerhouse at church when I was a kid). Here's to the woman who, when bed-ridden and not well enough to serve physically herself, deployed a legion of sons to do her bidding, and taught us to take joy in the work. I am sure few women can claim to have moved more washing machines, cleared messy garages and painted (badly) more walls by proxy than my mother. Here's to the seamstress who made dresses for proms, bridesmaids and brides for friends at church and school, to the chef who made endless cakes and dishes for socials. Here's to the choir-director and hand-waver that sang the hymns at church so loudly, and with such zeal, that it was actually a little embarrassing sometimes...
Here's to the scholar, who educated and instructed, taught me letters and numbers and a love of the English language. Who proof-read and cajoled, who demanded better when it could be achieved and soothed battered egos when it couldn't. Who has read essays on Charlemagne and Trotsky and pointed out inconsistencies you could drive a bus through. Who in later years has taken a glowing, righteous, pride in the stories and games that her efforts, put in so many years before, enabled.
So here's to the cook, the scribe, the teacher, the nurse, the counsellor, the confident, the entertainer, the budgeter, the coach and the friend (you've never seen someone lead the Galactic Empire in a game of Star Wars toys quite like my mum. My poor Ewoks). To the lady who picked me up, dusted me off and set me back at the task again, and again and again.
Finally, here's to the daughter of God, who taught me that death is not the end, and that families can be together forever. Something I still believe, even though it's not cool to do so. To the lady who made mistakes, and then put them right, who loved unconditionally and defended her own, and those she gathered to her, like a tigeress.
Finally, I'd like to offer you all my own condolences. If you've known my mum over the years, you might be feeling a little sad too. I think her most lasting legacy on this earth will be the lives she has touched, the friends she has made and the brothers and sisters she has brought into our family. So if your heart is aching a little, like mine is, it only goes to show what a splendid job she made of the incredibly hard task, of being a human.
Adam Troke, 7th April 2015
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We invite everyone to share their favourite stories and memories about Mum (Susanne) on this site. We especially invite those that are far away and unable to be with us on the 18th to share their thoughts on this page.
We would appreciate your photos, stories and memories. Before the funeral we intend to bring these all together into one place and print them for everyone to be able to see. As such we would ask if possible that people are able to add their memories prior to the end of Friday (April 10th) to allow Hannah-Sheree to do her magic.
Thanks in advance, we are excited to read everyone's contributions.
The Troke Family
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Susanne, though we had not seen or heard from each other since you and John were on the Isle of Wight, I remember our time together fondly. I await the time when I will see that wonderful smile again. John, you were/are a lucky man.
John Maizey shared a photo.Reply
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