Thursday 2 March 2017

Bye bye, Edwina

I have a shocking headache today, mainly because I enjoyed too much apré-ski in the pub last night. Don't worry, I am not touting for sympathy. I just have to get this post finished before the sun comes round and blinds me, forcing me to wear a hat as I write at the computer.

The sight of me hatted at the keyboard makes H.I. laugh. At any other time she says I remind her of a 1950s escaped-slave-hunter from the Deep South, and this does not make her laugh. It was even worse when I went shooting and bid her goodbye with my hat on and a shotgun slung over my shoulder.

Today she is going up to Sheffield with Daughter for her sister's funeral. She was brought up there in a tiny house without a bathroom which had an outside lavatory. Her sister remained, but H.I. ran down to Soho, London, as soon as she was old enough.

Once there, her airs and graces were taken for granted by the Londoners, and she arrived at a time when a young woman with a Northern accent had become fashionable. Back home in Sheffield she was 'The Queen of Sheba' as she had been since she could talk.

The last time I went to Sheffield was for her mother's funeral. We were ushered into the funeral parlour and, without prior warning, lead into a small, dimly-lit, air-conditioned room where her mother was lying in state with the lid off the coffin.

Her sister leaned over the coffin for a closer, final look at her mother and said, "Eee. It's like she has just fallen asleep." Their mother's hair had been neatly brushed and liberal amounts of make-up applied - in life she did not wear make-up.

The unexpected sight made H.I. burst into tears and she asked me to excort her out of the room. Once out, I tried to console her by saying that this was not her mother, it was just the shell of her.

She said, "I know, but she spent a long time in that shell."

Edwina spent 86 years in hers, which is quite a long time too.

19 comments:

  1. Hello F. H.I. tells me it was you who left the comment about Brussel Sprouts. Sorry, I didn't recognise you! X

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  2. I have just posted a sheffield memory post too

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    1. Just looked at it and was reminded that those 40,000 little things were made by Gormley (with a little help from others). I think his work went right down after those!

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    2. It's just occurred to me that - with your negative experience at the time and how the figures made you feel better - a good alternative title for the show could have been, 'Things Are Looking Up'.

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    3. And things always look up eventually......my best to H I

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  3. I attended and photographed a couple of dead bodies in my job as part of my company's safety team, before retiring. However, I've strangely enough, found the thought at looking at a dead relative in an open coffin quite off-putting.

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    1. Difficult to detach yourself when they are relatives.

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  4. Thinking of H.I and her family today. Hope all goes well. XXXX

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  5. I hope H.I.'s sister spent a good long time in her shell, too. I hope H.I.'s day is filled with old friends and good reminisces.

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  6. I hope your headache is over by now and H.I. is back home safely.

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    1. The headache is slowly going and H.I. will not be back until quite late tonight, but thank you.

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  7. My condolences to H.I. and family.

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  8. Hope H.I. has a day that is full of shared memories and stories and warm feelings.

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  9. When my neighbour died (a lovely man) I was ushered into his bedroom where he lay on top of the bed. I really didn't know what was expected of me, as they all looked to see my reaction, so I held his hand for a while before making a rush for the door so they wouldn't see my tears.

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    1. I rushed down to Hampshire/Surrey to try and get to my father before he died, but was half an hour too late. I went into his room with trepidation, then said to myself - and him, out loud - "How silly to be scared of your own father." After that it was ok.

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