Well, a long gap is a chance is see if anyone is reading any of this!
The first and most important reason for the lack of typing was because I was back in Britain. Not a happy visit. Ingrid, Clarrie’s mum, and a friend for umpteen years was seriously ill and died just five minutes before I saw her.
The only consolation I can take from the experience was that I was there when Clarrie needed me and I was able to help with the inevitable arrangements which have to be made.
I will miss Ingrid: her carefully timed telephone calls just a week before a half term to ensure a visit in the holiday period; her unbeatable potato salad; her introducing me to the mysteries of a good German poppy seed cake; her way of talking; her generosity; her sense of humour; her love. Some things are not to be found anywhere else and the combination of characteristics that made Ingrid who she was are not likely to be repeated. Except, of course, in memory where they can live on in a happy stasis. I think that the phrase that Clarrie thought up to summarise her mother, ‘Brave, loving and loved’ is an evocative and accurate one.
The service sheet which we drafted looked fantastic when it was finally printed (in full colour!) The front has a photo of Ingrid when she was a young girl of seven in German wearing an open smile and an unfeasibly large bow! The inside pages had a collage of Ingrid taken from photos through the years and her German identification documentation and papers when she first came to England. The back page had one of the last photos of Ingrid in hospital with Clarrie. The photo was taken by Mary and it although poignant in retrospect, it is actually not a harrowing image, but lively and jolly. And that’s how I am going to remember Ingrid.
The service in the Crematorium in Exeter was completely non-religious in nature and taken by me s a sort of MC! The main feature of the ‘service’ was Clarrie talking about her mum and reading an extract from a poem. The fact that she was able to stand up in front of people with the coffin of her mother beside her and give such a witty, touching and compelling talk says much for her strength of character.
The service was structured by music, ranging from Brahms to a piece of popular German folksy music called ‘Berliner Luft.’ I think it all worked and was a good tribute to Ingrid – the funeral director sitting at the back of the chapel certainly enjoyed it and was very complimentary when we finished!
I will miss her. On being five minutes late to see her mum, I said to Clarrie, “Your mother has been making me feel guilty for thirty years; why should she stop at the end?” We both laughed and that surely is the best way to remember and commemorate.
A purchase while in Britain. While walking down Regent’s Street I just happened to notice that the apple shop was open, so I popped in a bought one of the new ‘Classic’ 160GB ipods. I suppose that those two sentences while giving you the facts of the purchase do not actually tell you the intent that was behind the detour to that particular street.
When all my stuff was going into storage I spent some days (sic.) transferring all (sic.) my cd’s onto my computer. I was then able to transfer all the music onto an ipod. But, as the cd’s grew the ipod’s measly 30GB (remember my first computer had a storage capacity of 128K) was totally insufficient so I bought an 80GB ipod which was fine for the music but not for the podcasts that I had amassed. The computer made an executive decision to shear off the podcasts and concentrate on storing the music. But I wanted both music and podcasts – and, come to that photos and electronic books and calendars and . . . well you get the rather crazed and-tomorrow-the-world type of approach that I was developing.
It was therefore more in the nature of a medical palliative that the 160GB ipod was bought. It should be looked on more as counselling rather than unbelievable squandering of money on a third ipod. I don’t know anyone with three ipods apart from Apple Stores. Ah well, it’s the old story of cameras again. And no, I have little intention of telling you how many of those gadgets I posses. And anyway I sold some of them in Splott Market. Honestly.
And just to show that I have a studiously cultural side as well I have been reading and have been to the opera. Of which more anon.
There’s a threat!
The first and most important reason for the lack of typing was because I was back in Britain. Not a happy visit. Ingrid, Clarrie’s mum, and a friend for umpteen years was seriously ill and died just five minutes before I saw her.
The only consolation I can take from the experience was that I was there when Clarrie needed me and I was able to help with the inevitable arrangements which have to be made.
I will miss Ingrid: her carefully timed telephone calls just a week before a half term to ensure a visit in the holiday period; her unbeatable potato salad; her introducing me to the mysteries of a good German poppy seed cake; her way of talking; her generosity; her sense of humour; her love. Some things are not to be found anywhere else and the combination of characteristics that made Ingrid who she was are not likely to be repeated. Except, of course, in memory where they can live on in a happy stasis. I think that the phrase that Clarrie thought up to summarise her mother, ‘Brave, loving and loved’ is an evocative and accurate one.
The service sheet which we drafted looked fantastic when it was finally printed (in full colour!) The front has a photo of Ingrid when she was a young girl of seven in German wearing an open smile and an unfeasibly large bow! The inside pages had a collage of Ingrid taken from photos through the years and her German identification documentation and papers when she first came to England. The back page had one of the last photos of Ingrid in hospital with Clarrie. The photo was taken by Mary and it although poignant in retrospect, it is actually not a harrowing image, but lively and jolly. And that’s how I am going to remember Ingrid.
The service in the Crematorium in Exeter was completely non-religious in nature and taken by me s a sort of MC! The main feature of the ‘service’ was Clarrie talking about her mum and reading an extract from a poem. The fact that she was able to stand up in front of people with the coffin of her mother beside her and give such a witty, touching and compelling talk says much for her strength of character.
The service was structured by music, ranging from Brahms to a piece of popular German folksy music called ‘Berliner Luft.’ I think it all worked and was a good tribute to Ingrid – the funeral director sitting at the back of the chapel certainly enjoyed it and was very complimentary when we finished!
I will miss her. On being five minutes late to see her mum, I said to Clarrie, “Your mother has been making me feel guilty for thirty years; why should she stop at the end?” We both laughed and that surely is the best way to remember and commemorate.
A purchase while in Britain. While walking down Regent’s Street I just happened to notice that the apple shop was open, so I popped in a bought one of the new ‘Classic’ 160GB ipods. I suppose that those two sentences while giving you the facts of the purchase do not actually tell you the intent that was behind the detour to that particular street.
When all my stuff was going into storage I spent some days (sic.) transferring all (sic.) my cd’s onto my computer. I was then able to transfer all the music onto an ipod. But, as the cd’s grew the ipod’s measly 30GB (remember my first computer had a storage capacity of 128K) was totally insufficient so I bought an 80GB ipod which was fine for the music but not for the podcasts that I had amassed. The computer made an executive decision to shear off the podcasts and concentrate on storing the music. But I wanted both music and podcasts – and, come to that photos and electronic books and calendars and . . . well you get the rather crazed and-tomorrow-the-world type of approach that I was developing.
It was therefore more in the nature of a medical palliative that the 160GB ipod was bought. It should be looked on more as counselling rather than unbelievable squandering of money on a third ipod. I don’t know anyone with three ipods apart from Apple Stores. Ah well, it’s the old story of cameras again. And no, I have little intention of telling you how many of those gadgets I posses. And anyway I sold some of them in Splott Market. Honestly.
And just to show that I have a studiously cultural side as well I have been reading and have been to the opera. Of which more anon.
There’s a threat!
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