compassion, collaboration & cooperation iN transistion
SO ALSO in DEATH
"Joan and Lou" finally together as her body
was gracefully lowered into the earth on
Friday 26th October, in the grounds of her
most favourite church - St Mary, Kelling.
The Mother that bore me finally at peace with her GOD.
Joan was born – in her own words – “a plain Yorkshire lass” – and subsequently
moved south with her family during the 1930s. Having met and married Lou – to
whom she was married for 61 years – Michael and Frances were both born in
The Archway, North London before the family moved to Hertfordshire. It was
during this time that Joan passed her driving test. She proudly purchased her
one and only car – a Riley Elf – at which time she began to visit places along the
North Norfolk coast. Lou’s mother’s family had moved from West Scotland to
North Norfolk – also during the 1930s. They liked it so much that they decided
to retire here in the early 1970s. Her own Yorkshire accent had most certainly
become tinged with a Norfolk one over the years. She was a fine seamstress and
made her own clothes and soft furnishings and worked for several years in an
antiques shop in Holt where she indulged her keen interest in – and knowledge
of bone china. Joan was a regular churchgoer and loved this church in Kelling.
Following Lou’s death she gradually became too frail and unable to attend.
For the later years of her life she was cared for by Frances and she died
peacefully holding Frances’s hand.
"Don't CHANGE the world - CHANGE WORLDS" - said St. Francis of Assisi
"Joan and Lou" most certainly did that - and the stained glass window of St Mary will, forever and a day, provide testament to that fact - during their final 40 years together in Holt.
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Thanks to Albert for bringing this news to my attention -
"Helen Thomas passed away with 92 years - here my last interview
with her in Dubai about tolerance and journalism - I will pray for
her tonight." - Hubertus Hoffmann
RIP Helen Thomas
When my mother died unexpectedly five years ago, I was consumed
with remorse. She lived only nine miles away, yet I had not seen her for
a month. Because Mum had been in good health, I foolishly assumed
that there would be plenty of opportunities to visit her and say the
things that needed to be said. TIME, it seemed, was elastic - I could
stretch it to accommodate my blinkered and, let’s not dodge it,
self-aggrandising behaviour. Sadly, I failed to hear what the poet
Andrew Marvell identified as - “time’s winged chariot hurrying near ”.
The upshot was distorted priorities. Illusions of urgent demands –
career, status, approval – were given immediate attention. By contrast,
precious, unrepeatable moments with loved ones were squandered.
"Money may be the husk of many things but not the kernel. It brings you food, but not appetite; medicine, but not health; acquaintance, but not friends; servants, but not loyalty; days of joy, but not peace or happiness." - Henrik Ibsen
My mum's most favourite wine was that which I presume my dad introduced to her on his return to the UK, following his service in Italy during World War II.
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"Don't CHANGE the world - CHANGE WORLDS"
St. Francis of Assisi
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