I wanted somewhere to post this; this will be good.
My mother died on Sunday morning (UK time). She had had flu and on Saturday afternoon collapsed through apparent weakness. She was admitted to hospital as she was dehydrated. Sadly, she died next morning at 5.30. She was 84 and three moths - the oldest member of her generation.
I miss her very much and want to share these three photographs. They are all from her childhood and youth. I knew my mother from her 22nd year (she married on her 21st birthday) and can - sort of - remember her youthful appearance. But it is the way of things that we recall more recent events, and 'Old Pam' was well known in her own circle - in latter years small, shrivelled even. So I wanted to post some pictures of her in her youth. Here they are:
I think Mum was a very happy (or at least, contented) person. I can’t recall her ever having harboured a grudge, said anything mean about anyone (at least not without apologising for it in advance, and being very ashamed!) or being generally unpleasant in any way. She was very loving and caring, immensely proud of her two children and granddaughter, always willing to help in unfashionable tasks (she was a tremendous washer-upper at church events) and as excited as a child about making a long rail journey to come up to see us in Shropshire. She taught me how to experience wonder at all that was around us, and to love books - she devoured them, often starting on ones I'd just finished. And that to follow the crowd was often a poor choice. She introduced me to classical music - she had a load of 78s from her childhood and she just liked the tunes. And she always listened patiently when I was at my most boring (very often) and seemed to share my own excitement in anything I did.
We each leave a ‘footprint’ of our interactions with everyone: it’s our immortality. The world was a better place with Mum in it, but it will remain a better place as long as there are people who have been touched - first-hand or more remotely - by her existence.
My mother died on Sunday morning (UK time). She had had flu and on Saturday afternoon collapsed through apparent weakness. She was admitted to hospital as she was dehydrated. Sadly, she died next morning at 5.30. She was 84 and three moths - the oldest member of her generation.
I miss her very much and want to share these three photographs. They are all from her childhood and youth. I knew my mother from her 22nd year (she married on her 21st birthday) and can - sort of - remember her youthful appearance. But it is the way of things that we recall more recent events, and 'Old Pam' was well known in her own circle - in latter years small, shrivelled even. So I wanted to post some pictures of her in her youth. Here they are:
The Gough clan in 1931. Mum is the baby, far right, in her mother's arms. The child behind is her brother; that on the left her elder sister. The formidable lady centre-stage is my great-grandmother.
Mum with her younger brother in 1944. Mum is 14.
Going to her elder sister's wedding (to the Canadian airman on the far right) in 1946 (?). Mum is 16. Her mother is two to the right, and her elder brother (from picture no. 1) is in the middle, slightly behind.
I think Mum was a very happy (or at least, contented) person. I can’t recall her ever having harboured a grudge, said anything mean about anyone (at least not without apologising for it in advance, and being very ashamed!) or being generally unpleasant in any way. She was very loving and caring, immensely proud of her two children and granddaughter, always willing to help in unfashionable tasks (she was a tremendous washer-upper at church events) and as excited as a child about making a long rail journey to come up to see us in Shropshire. She taught me how to experience wonder at all that was around us, and to love books - she devoured them, often starting on ones I'd just finished. And that to follow the crowd was often a poor choice. She introduced me to classical music - she had a load of 78s from her childhood and she just liked the tunes. And she always listened patiently when I was at my most boring (very often) and seemed to share my own excitement in anything I did.
We each leave a ‘footprint’ of our interactions with everyone: it’s our immortality. The world was a better place with Mum in it, but it will remain a better place as long as there are people who have been touched - first-hand or more remotely - by her existence.
Exactly so! Hadn't thought of that, but now you mention it!
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