EULOGY: by John Kapp

Sylvia’s calling and life’s purpose was a healer and doctor, following a long family tradition of healers of mind and soul, represented here today by her cousins, and her aunt, my sister, Dr Elinor Kapp. Our mother, Dr Dorothy Kapp nee Wilkins came of a long line of missionaries in India. Healing requires the feeling expression of emotions, and letting them go. 

Sylvia expressed emotions aptly by choosing words which touch, as in her blog, and the items in this service, and by feelingly performing music,  leading the lawyers’ orchestra for over 15 years. One of our ancestors led the Musikverein orchestra in Vienna for over 40 years.

Sylvia accomplished an immense amount of healing in her short life, her illness and her death, and achieved her life’s purpose. This congregation honours her memory, and expresses our gratitude to her for that healing, so that we can let her go.


On behalf of Sylvia’s family I would like to thank you for your messages of condolence, and for being present with us here today.


The next item is a song called ‘Lament’, but Sylvia didn’t choose it, and neither did I. It chose me by ringing in my ears incessantly after she died. The words are a first world war poem, which my father, Reginald Kapp, set to music in 1919, that’s 94 years ago. I sang it a few times accompanied by him, but that was around 55 years ago. This is its first public performance.      

My father never expressed any emotions in front of me, or said this, but I think that in this song, he was expressing and feeling the emotions of fighting on the British side, against his cousins and school friends on the German side, so that he could heal and let them go.

The words aptly expressed how I first felt on losing Sylvia. However, now, 12 days on, I too have let go of the emotions, and the feelings have transformed from sadness to gratitude for being alive, and not taking life for granted.  

In a moment my son in law, Philip Clemo will play his recording of me singing it last Monday, but these are the words:


‘We who are left, how shall we look again,
Happily on the sun, or feel the rain,
Without remembering that they who went
Ungrudgingly, and spent
Their lives for us, loved too the sun and rain.

A bird among the rain wet lilac sings- 
But we, how shall we turn to little things,
And listen to the birds, and winds and streams,
Made holy by their dreams.
Nor feel the heart break, feel the heart break in the heart of things.’