Mildred and Mavis Ride Again
 
We have spent the past few days in Suffolk at a family funeral.  My aunt to be precise.  would have been 93 in May and had lived in a Mason's care home for the past five years.  Funerals are funny things.  For years assorted relatives name call other relatives and then they all get together at the funeral and say how wonderful so and so was!  So it was here.  My aunt was a very gregarious woman, she travelled abroad on her own at a time when women did not do that.  She was glamorous and would waft down from London in a cloud of scents and up to date fashions.  Even at 90 she had to be told that a ra ra skirt was perhaps a little unsuitable for a lady of her age.  She snorted at that but allowed herself to be lead away to look at other fashion.

As the curtain closed in front of he coffin before sliding away to the literally fiery furnace, I sensed a palpable end of the show.  Short of taking a final bow she slid from this world into the next amidst a scene of warm benevolence.  She had had a hideous temper, but now that was extinguished and all that we could remember was her Imelda Marcos like shoe collection and her harrying of her late husband, my uncle.  Poor chap, he wasn't allowed to sit in the lounge except in clean and pressed trousers.  Any whiff of the garden and she would put newspaper on the chair before he plonked himself down.  "A real gentleman your uncle" the undertaker, (who was a family friend of theirs) told me.  He should know as he as had my uncle's ashes in a an urn on a shelf in his funeral parlour for the last three years.  Plenty of time for the two old boys to chat.  Now both aunt and uncle will be scattered together in the local church to where they lived for upwards of 30 years.

These things always make me thikn about my own mortality.  But not for too long as at the tea party afterwards Mildred got herself into a real mess.  Sausage rolls, pork pie and egg sandwich crumbs soon littered her front.  She was oblivious to this of course.  But my niece, whose husband had driven us in his lovely Jaguar motor car, wasn't having her back in the car until she looked decent again.  Like a small child Mildred wriggled and complained as we applied damp tissues to her mess eventually getting her back to s
 


Comments

Fri, 16 Sep 2011 10:41:17

My grandmother would be 93 in the next year. Miss her every day!

 



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