Auntie May had an ample bosom, was not very tall, had wispy slightly brownish hair, a rounded kindly face, quiet demeanour and smiling eyes.
Her frugal habits, necessary in her earlier days, were never broken. She patched and mended everything, long past the time the articles should have been relegated to the rubbish or duster bag. Sheets and knickers sported huge patches. Some members of the family felt shame at this extreme practice.
Everyone loved Auntie May. Her place was where everyone caught up on family affairs and news. Yet she was not a gossipy person. Somehow she kept her finger on the pulse of our family life. Whenever anyone wanted to find out anything about another member of our clan the answer was "Ask Auntie May".
Well into her 80's Auntie May rode her bicycle. On occasion she had a fall but this did not deter her. Finally, her family members insisted she sell her bike, for her own safety. She told me how she was sad to do this. Before parting with it she went for a short ride as a farewell gesture.
My sister Linda and I were probably the last ones to speak to her, on our Saturday afternoon visit to Ravelston Street on the 1st of October, 1983. Auntie May told us she was feeling very cold and spoke of her tiredness and diet.
Around lunchtime the next day we had a phone call from a cousin. Auntie May had died that morning sitting in her chair in the lounge. Her nieghbour had popped in before church time. There was an arrangement between them. They walked to the Musselburgh Presbyterian Church together as a rule. If one or the other was not attending they called for the collection envelope to deliver. The friend found Auntie May. The envelope was ready on the table.
Stories for my Grandchildren, Isobel Spence
7 comments:
Does Mr Darcy come into this story soon?
I think you have a thing for Mr. Darcy.
I bet 10 cents you haven't even read Pride and Prejudice.
Ah, mista, you're sad!
Pride and who?
Are you prejudiced mista?
Is it because I'm black?
Well,
fuck you white boy!
That's a lovely story!
Some people may be offended by Mr. Richard Prowse's comments. They should know that he is giving us a series of refrains from the students at our school. The last, and most explicit was what a student once said to him. I like to say to Richard when he says hello to me in the morning. It's called "keeping it real". Hang on, it's the morning now - fuck you, whiteboy!
2nd - thank you. It was written by my Auntie Isobel. Just ignore Richard. His hidden agenda is to shut down blog sites. He shut down Randy, the old brothers, Peter... the list goes on.
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