Mothering Sunday - revisiting an old blog post

Whilst writing my previous post here, I stumbled upon a blog post I’d written shortly after Edna, my Mum died in 2008. I linked to it in that post and in doing so, I reread it and thought it was a fine tribute to one of the two people I owe the world to. But I’d quite forgotten about it and when I tried to find it here, drew a blank.

I thought that, when I reformatted my blog and moved it from Blogger all those years ago, I’d copied everything and yet, that did not seem to be the case. It’s only after a fairly lengthy search on this, our Mothering Sunday here in England, that I found the post that got left behind and decided to share it here.

It’s dated January 23rd 2008, for I wrote it the day after her death.

Edna - Mummy

Though the events of the last few weeks have taken their toll on us all, the comment made by one friend that this time was "precious" was particularly insightful. Whilst we would not have wished for Edna to endure the difficulties and frustrations for as long as she did, it has also been a privilege to have the chance to spend the last weeks with her. The last week has been precious indeed; time to think, reflect, remember and tell her all those things we wouldn't have had the chance to say otherwise.

One of the few photographs I have of Edna (Courtney) as a young woman, late 1940's?

Wedding photograph, St Johns Newland, Hull, September 1948. (Same as my Hero and I)

Standing with some EYMS Conductress (connying) friends in Collier Street, Hull, early 1950s I'd say.

with me, around 1956

Leaving Hornsea Railway Station with my Great Aunt Lily. Going by train from Stepney station, a ten minute walk from our home on Beverley Road, Hull was a regular Sunday routine. 1957 or thereabouts.

Since Gordon (Daddy) died in June 2004, the two of us have enjoyed being together for a week's holiday, most recently in Stresa, Italy, where some of my most recent photographs of her were taken. Though the weather was dreadful, we spent happy days laughing, eating and often doing no more than sitting at a cafe table with a bottle of wine, watching the world go by and working out how we might avoid the attention of the pigeons, which would send us both into a flap if they came within a couple of yards. Meeting up with Swiss friends was a highlight and a chance to remember Gordon, Torquay in the 1960's and blow-up furniture. It took a calculation every time to prove to ourselves that this wasn't only a couple of years ago - surely everyone was just as they'd always been?

Perhaps this, the last photograph I took on that trip, is how I'll remember Edna. Sitting at Milan airport, playing solitaire on her Nintendo, relaxed and happy. 82 years old, taking pride in her ability to keep going despite the limitations imposed on her by wonky hips, never really getting over losing Daddy so suddenly three and a half years ago but determined to manage and be independent. So proud of Edward and his achievements, I feel particularly pleased that we managed to spend a day with him in Westminster shortly before her stroke. She ensured she wasn't left behind by embracing the use of her mobile phone and txt msgs (even if they didn't always quite reach the right person!) email and instant messenging on her pc, especially when we were on holiday somewhere; her daily email during our Vietnam holiday was something we looked forward to and a reassurance that she was fine. (We worried)

She loved being in Cottingham, playing whist and enjoying lunch with friends on a Wednesday, especially if it were her turn to choose and they could go to the Chinese restaurant. She was well known by "the TSB girls" in the bank, expressing her appreciation for the care they took of her day to day financial matters by taking cakes for them and telling them about her travels. She enjoyed getting out and about, by bus and more recently, her scooter and looked forward to Sunday lunch with her sister Jean and brother in law Ray each week, because a day at home, alone with nothing to do was what she feared most of all.

Above all, she would have done anything she could for me. She believed in my ability to do anything, had utmost faith in the choices I made and whenever I credited her with giving me the opportunities and the encouragement, she shrugged it off as an irrelevance. Of course, I owe her everything, from taking the stand to make sure I got the best possible start in life by means of a good, private nursery school (unheard of in those Beverley Road streets) to her constant support to seize every opportunity that came along. She always aspired to better things, not for herself but for Daddy and for me and took immense pleasure in watching as we succeeded in whatever new challenge we faced.

Though she had high hopes of a secure and happy married life for me, she never dreamed that someone as amazing as Mark would come along and having identified him as good son-in-law potential from the moment she met him, she couldn't quite believe her luck when shortly after we met, it was clear that he was the one. When he greeted her by saying "Hello Grandma" after Edward's birth, her joy was complete and the relationship with her beloved grandson was second to none.

It comes as a comfort to know that she led such a rich and happy life. Though there were hard times, undoubtedly, there were also many days filled with laughter, friends and family. Never one to turn down a chance to travel, to try new experiences and meet new people, the holidays to Switzerland, Germany, Cyprus and Yugoslavia, the round-the-world cruises and discovery of places she'd never dreamed she'd see were a highlight of being retired and having the time and resources to enjoy them.

I'm glad to have so many lovely memories of her and will, I know, enjoy looking through her old photograph albums in time, however hard it seems now.

And Mummy, we will always think of Tonto as Al Capone's horse...we love you.