The background image is from a forgotten source
Photographs in Time
The photograph (left, below) of my father and me, when I was around 2 or 3 years of age, was taken on the dunes at Ainsdale beach, Birkdale, near Southport and throughout my latter life it has periodically popped into my memory, haunting me somewhat. I remember very little of this period of my life and nothing of this particular event.
Southport is a town whose suburbs change little. As an adult, I have walked along its streets on the kind of sunny morning that evokes nostalgic memories of times gone; the wide pavements invite me to linger over the sweeping front gardens leading to mysterious old houses, occasionally a cottage or a terraced row. As an older boy of nine, I was at school here. There was a board, nailed to a large, handsome tree in the front garden proclaiming 'Fairlea School for Boys & Girls'
How often did I visit Southport with my father? Was the photograph evidence of the only time we went to the beach together? Southport beach was just that – always beach, there never seemed to be any sea to splash about in. Perhaps a stressed Creator thought ... 'Right, let's see ... sand, dunes, spiky grass, ... er ... I think that's everything. I pronounce this beach finished. The sea? ... oh ... no. I really don't want to spoil them with that as well!" To give the Almighty the credit deserved, the dunes were spectacular. A maze of paths through gulleys and hills that could lead anywhere and sometimes led nowhere. Sand in your shoes and socks, jumping from the edge of ever-crumbling sand walls ..... these were the memories of this great sand kingdom and its powerful sentry – the couch grass – which would cut your legs and arms mercilessly in the protection of its domain.
I originally mislaid the photograph, and some others of the two of us together, but I have recently found them. My father, with whom I recall spending little time as a child, does not remember the events leading to the picture and indeed is very reluctant to talk about early times with me at all. I put this down squarely to his not being at peace with himself, perhaps due to his never coming to terms with the past. What happened over this early period to court such reluctance, I probably will never know. I do believe that we are the products of what we were and thus learning something of what went before enables us to understand ourselves better now and thus to better prepare for the future.
I have finally exorcised the original demon memory ... by having a photograph taken of me with my daughter Imogen on the dunes at Southport (right, below). I wonder whether she will view it forty years on and remember its significance. I hope so.
I hope Imogen will do the same with a child of hers. It's a romantic notion but I feel it helps to put my very existence into perspective. The original photograph doesn't haunt me in the same way now.
Spyros and Andre, Birkdale, 1947
Click picture to enlarge
Andre and Imogen, Birkdale, 1996
Eulogy for Thelma
Foreward
My mother-in-law, Thelma, passed away on Friday 5th July, 2013 after a short illness. The service for the celebration of her life was held at Grantham Crematorium at 11am on Friday 19th July, 2013. I delivered the eulogy below.
Eulogy
I feel privileged to be delivering this eulogy for my mother-in-law and dear friend.
Thelma was born the only child of Tom and Jane Gee in June 1937 in St Helens, Lancashire. She had a happy childhood by all accounts, surrounded by a large extended family of grandparents, uncles, aunts and cousins. She was married twice and had five children with her first husband, Keith.
Her overriding passion was her husband, close family and friends.
- Husband: Brian.
- Her 5 children: Lorna, Elaine, Lynne, Neil and Ian.
- And her children’s partners: Me, Achim, Javad, Andrea and Christina.
- Brian’s daughter: Michelle,
and last, but not least:
- 10 Grandchildren: Gordon, Ben, Emily, Imogen, David, Jamie, Grace, Paula, Harry and Jodie.
Thelma was the undisputed matriarch of the family and she was known fondly by us all as ‘The Great One’ due to the fact that … well, she was all-seeing and all-knowing … or so she would have us believe. She had opinions on everyone and everything that affected her extended family and was happy to give them out, albeit very tactfully. She particularly enjoyed the cosmopolitan nature of the family with its German and Iranian strands and the differing cultures and foods this introduced her to.
Brian and Thelma were each the love of the other’s life and lived happily in nearby Ruskington village for over 25 years, keeping a welcoming, comfortable house and a beautiful English cottage garden.
Thelma had a great enthusiasm for gardening, engineering wonderful blazes of colour all year round. There would be literally hundreds of pots supporting cuttings and seedlings at various stages of maturity. The various ornaments, knick-knacks, bird baths, wind chimes and statues that decorated the garden truly defined who she was and one felt a great sense of tranquility there. The duo tended the garden together, but of course Brian was strictly under orders because … we know he works so well under supervision.
She had fortnightly meetings with her two close friends, Sylvia and Margaret for coffee and to put the world to rights. It was like a set from ‘Last of The Summer Wine’, though which of them took the role of Foggy or Compo is anyone’s guess.
Another great passion of Thelma’s was looking for clothes and shoes, totally in character shopping until dropping. Her Holy Grail was to find the ‘perfect pair of black trousers’, which went on for years. Finally after one particular excursion with Lorna, she found them and was absolutely overjoyed. Later that night, Lorna had a phone call. Her mother had found the even-more perfect pair … in the bottom of one of her wardrobes, given to her some years before by Elaine!
As an Army wife, married to Keith, she travelled extensively including Cyprus, Kenya and three separate tours in Germany. By today’s standards, her family was a large one and required particular skills. She was a tailor, an excellent seamstress who supported the family by making some of her children’s clothes and, by all accounts, beautiful gowns for Mess Balls. She was a managing director, keeping a family of seven fed, clothed, entertained, disciplined and protected; an accountant, wringing everything she could from her relatively modest household budget. She was a resourceful chef, devising meals that were satisfying yet nutritious. Curries were made exotic with sultanas and bananas. She mastered Geometry, dividing particular comestibles into five or seven precisely equal portions, not easy with five baying, hungry children looking on. She had a spell as a sleuth, needing to solve the mysterious case of the children’s spots. Upon investigation, she discovered a face flannel was being used to clean the bath and sinks. The new Kenyan houseboy was severely reprimanded!
Her 70th birthday was celebrated by hiring a large house in Hereford, complete with swimming pool and games room. It was a family affair of epic proportion, with Thelma producing, directing and editing it all in her own inimitable style. One of the highlights was a well-kept secret. The surprise appearance of Emily, who had travelled from Dubai to be there. Thelma (and indeed Lynne) were both overjoyed … and overcome!
We all loved her culinary plagiarism - asking you for the recipe of a particular dish you introduced her to, to find, some time later when she invited you to dinner, she would serve it, slightly altered to take account of missing ingredients (or a bad day).
We remember those happy visits, sometimes with a picnic, to Belton House, Rufford Park, Belvoir Castle and Newstead Abbey and she was always excited with the trips to Germany for the special occasions. The holiday in Devon, when we were severely restricted for space - but she insisted we had to take a particular bag, so heavy it took two of us to load it. We found out later it was full of tins and her homemade pickles and chutney! We recall fondly the heart-warming family get-togethers she organised most Christmases. Here, everyone needed to be in attendance before the presents were given out. She derived much pleasure from the whole experience, being far more excited than the children. These memories are precious to us all.
Thelma, you were always there when you were needed, to give support, comfort, advice and most of all, love.
The initial sadness left by your passing will, very soon, be outweighed by recalling the wonderful times we spent with you.
We thank you for having shared your life with us and touching our hearts. If there truly is a purpose in life, I am sure you have fulfilled it.
Goodbye from us all - dear mother, wife and friend.
Click to enlarge
Thelma with her children at her 70th celebration
Service of Celebration
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