Always a Chalet School girl
The CBB -> St Agnes's House
#1: Always a Chalet School girl Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 9:22 pm

I’ll always be a Chalet School girl even when I’m 90 years old and in a Bath chair.

I was young when I said that and I had no idea what it would be like. Oh, I’m still a Chalet School girl, but Bath chairs are things of the past. I had no idea what it would be like, to have my mind still active, still working, while my body has given up on me. I’m trapped, not just in this bed, but inside my once-active body. I always loathed bed during the day, but now I have no choice. And I’m alone.

I’m not really on my own of course. I have visitors every day and the staff check up on me regularly, but so many people have left me. Of course, you can’t get to my age and not lose people and if, like me, you have so many people in your life, there are more of them to lose. Not that I’d want to have ever been without one single one of them, but now, at 93 I feel so alone.

My beloved Jack has gone. He left me nearly 15 years ago. I thought I’d lost him once before, during the war, but he came back to me. This time he’s not coming back. I know because this time I saw him go, watched as the cancer attacked his body, sapping his strength, weakening him more and more until he could fight it no longer. Held his hand as he closed his eyes one last time.

He always loved his work, and it was because of his work that he got the cancer. They know now, of course, about x-rays and the dangers, but back in those early days they didn’t know much about it. They told him that was what had caused it.

A nurse stops by my room and sees the tears rolling down my wrinkled cheeks. “Now come on Jo,” she says cheerfully, taking a tissue from the box by my bed (no-one uses handkerchiefs any more it seems) “we can’t have this, can we. It’ll be visiting time soon and you don’t want your visitors to see you crying do we?” She gently wipes my cheeks and then moves on; always busy, always someone else to care for.

Last edited by LizB on Fri Oct 07, 2005 5:20 pm; edited 7 times in total

 

#2:  Author: Helen P, Location: Crewe, Cheshire PostPosted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 9:27 pm

Poor Jo Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad

Thankyou Liz, this is excellent. Smile

 

#3:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 9:29 pm

Thanks, Liz. What a wonderful drabble - will we see more of this please?

 

#4:  Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England PostPosted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 9:36 pm

How sad. Crying or Very sad

Thank you Liz.

 

#5:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 10:11 pm

Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Oh that is sad... poor Jack and Jo. This is excellent, Liz, thanks

 

#6:  Author: Gem, Location: Saltash/Aberystwyth PostPosted: Wed Oct 05, 2005 11:01 pm

Sad Poor, poor Jo.

Thank you, Liz Smile

 

#7:  Author: Squirrel, Location: St-Andrews or Dunfermline PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 6:14 am

Poor Joey - being taught that she has to be cheerful for the visitors, feeling that no one has time for who she is. I'd love to see that changing in one way or another.

Thanks Liz

 

#8:  Author: MaryR, Location: Sale Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 7:28 am

Old age brings so many sadnesses - losing one's loved ones, illnesses or disabilities, dependency on others.....

Poor Jo. Crying or Very sad

Thanks, Liz.

 

#9:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 7:54 am

Jack. He was always the only one for me, although I took my time discovering it. It was as much a shock to me as it was to everyone else when I realised I was in love with him. I always thought I would never marry, never realised he was waiting patiently for me. We had all that excitement of course, escaping from the Nazis, and then when we got to safety we were married. I knew what to expect on my wedding night, Madge had had a chat with me, but I didn’t really know what to do. But Jack was so gentle and tender and helped me overcome my nerves. He always was that gentle caring man, always took care of me and the children. We had our moments of course, what couple doesn’t? But it was always me and him. It didn’t really matter where we lived; Guernsey, Plas Howell, Carnbach, Canada, Freudesheim, what mattered was that we were together. We worked well as a team, raising our children and taking on extra wards and adoptees when they came along. He supported me with my writing as much as I supported his work at the San. Even the school was as important to him as it was to me.

Even after all these years, I miss him, miss his companionship, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the sound of his voice, the way he held me in his arms. We had so many happy years together and I treasure the memories of those.

My eyes start to fill with tears again. I must blink them away. It is visiting time soon and I don’t want them to see me crying, to think I’m unhappy.

Here’s my first visitor. A tall girl with a long ponytail of chestnut hair. She has a spring in her step and is full of life. I try to move my lips in a smile of hello and say her name.

“No grandmamma, I’m not Len, I’m Jessica.” She says, and I nod my head slightly to show I know. I know who she is really, it’s just that between my mind and my tongue the name gets confused. She looks like Len used to, but this is Jessie, Philippa’s daughter and the youngest of my grandchildren. She sits down and tells me about the plans for the school Sale. She is like Len in more than looks, despite being only her niece. Like Len, she trained to be a teacher and now she’s at the school.

She can’t stay long. She has to get back to take Inter V for English Literature, but she’ll be back again tomorrow.

The Sale is going to be a fairy-tale theme. I remember our first sale back in the Tirol. My lips move in the shadow of a smile as I think about it. I remember falling off the ladder and knocking over Nell Wilson. How we laughed about that in the years afterwards. In my mind I see Frieda, hair down to her waist, as the Fairy of the well and Simone is there too. Marie is as lovely as ever, dressed as Beauty.

 

#10:  Author: Eilidh, Location: Macclesfield PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 8:05 am

Poor Jo. She must be so lonely.

Thanks Liz.

 

#11:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 8:18 am

Wow... this is moving stuff. Very sad Sad

 

#12:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 8:51 am

Oh no I think this drabble might make me cry... but thanks Liz Crying or Very sad

 

#13:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 8:54 am

Thank you Liz. Wonderful. Poor Jo though, it really captures how lonely someone can be even when surrounded by people.

 

#14:  Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!! PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:35 am

Poor Joey. Im glad so many people still love and care for her, but she obviously misses Jack so much.

Thanks Liz

 

#15:  Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 10:30 am

Oh, that made me shiver. It is so sad, she knows she says the wrong name, and she knows the right one, and her memory is so clear. She has some wonderful memories, but despiet visitors is alone. It sounds as if her family and friends are doing all they can and that she doesn't lack for care or visitors, but none of that can make up for losing Jack or for her situation really.


One aside I did think, Joey says that Madge had the little chat with her....Madge wouldn't have had anyone to do that for her so I wonder if she knew what to expect on her wedding night?

 

#16:  Author: Helen P, Location: Crewe, Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:01 am

Thankyou Liz, this is super.

And like Mia, I'm going to have tissues at the ready next time! Very Happy

 

#17:  Author: Pat, Location: Doncaster PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:34 am

The problems come when people, incuding care staff, think that the person is confused because they say the wrong name, and don't trouble to check whether they really know the person or not. Thanks Liz.

 

#18:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:35 am

It’s a long time since the four of us were together. I remember our holiday in Yorkshire, the year we met Phoebe. What fun we had. Stephen was only a baby then. Now he’s retired and spends his time doing voluntary work. He came to see me yesterday, but won’t be in today as it’s his day for helping with the computer club at the special needs school. How things have changed. Computers weren’t even thought of when I was at school, and now it seems no classroom is complete without one.

I remember Jessica telling me how the school is using computers to track down old pupils or their descendents. It was a project started for the 75th anniversary celebrations and is still going on now. There’s been a lot of girls go through the school over the years. But I still think the best time was when we were at the Tiernsee in the beginning. I can remember it now as if it were yesterday. The beautiful blue lake, black with ice in the winter, but blue as a sapphire in the summer. The pine woods and the meadows, the trips up the Mondscheinespitz and other mountains. I remember girls who are girls no longer; Gisela, Grizel, Juliet, Bernhilda, Margia and, of course, my precious Robin.

What great care we took of our beautiful Robin and what an angel she was. She was like another sister to me, and I felt like a part of me was surgically removed when she joined the convent in Toronto. Oh, I know she did the right thing, and the only thing she could have done, but I missed her so much. We saw each other on rare occasions, and wrote regular long letters to each other. I remember the excitement when we discovered that Adrienne, was related to her. And I remember the shock that day, 50 years ago now, when we had a telegram from the Mother Superior telling us of the accident. Robin had dashed out into the road to save a young boy from being hit by a bus. She saved him from being run over, but was knocked down herself while doing that. Jack and I flew over to Canada immediately, but there was nothing that could be done. Although she lingered a few more days, brave and smiling as always, it was with relief as well as sadness that we knew her pain was over forever.

 

#19:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:53 am

Shocked

Robin would have wanted to go saving a life though I think.

Poor Jo - she does seem terribly lonely. Most of her peers are gone Sad

 

#20:  Author: Eilidh, Location: Macclesfield PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:56 am

I could imagine Robin going like that. Sad

Thanks again Liz

 

#21:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 11:59 am

I can see that happenin to Robin, glad Jo and Jack could see her at the end.

Tha nk you Liz.

 

#22:  Author: Joyful, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 12:02 pm

Poor Joey Crying or Very sad

Thanks Liz

 

#23:  Author: Amanda M, Location: Wakefield PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 1:39 pm

This is so poignant Sad
Thanks Liz.

 

#24:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 4:37 pm

Another tap at the door, and here’s another visitor. How strange that she has arrived just as I am thinking of Robin, because this is her namesake. My Cecilia Marya. Her dark curls are now half-silver, but it gives her dignity, befitting to her position of headmistress of the Chalet School. Cecil comes into the room and brings a handful of letters out of her bag. “I’ve brought your post Mamma,” she tells me, after giving me a kiss, and sits down and opens the first envelope.

It is a fan letter. Even now they still come, although I’ve not written anything for over 20 years, since Jack first got ill. I don’t quite understand it, I know most of my books are considered out of fashion and many are out of print now, but I’m told they still have a following, what they call ‘cult status’. The letter says the same things I’ve heard before, how the writer can identify with the main character in the book, despite the difference in lifestyle, how she wishes more people she met were like the ones in my books. Cecil finishes the letter and puts it back in the envelope. One of the girls will write a reply and read it to me before they send it off.

She takes out the second letter. It is from Geoff. It’s not often that he writes a proper letter to me. I hear what’s going on from the emails he sends to his brothers and sisters, but he doesn’t often write letters. I know that Marie-Claire, one of our adopted children and now Geoff’s wife, must have nagged him into it. That doesn’t matter; I don’t need the pages, filled with his untidy scrawl, to know that he loves me.

Cecil is reading, past the opening pleasantries that must be got out of the way and then telling me about his latest book. Con was the first writer from my children, and she has done very well, but Geoff’s crime thrillers are very popular – not old-fashioned like my books – and two of them have even been made into very successful films, although when I watched them the story didn’t seem to be quite the same as the one I’d read. Cecil is laughing as she reads how Geoff got spotted by some fans while out shopping and darted into the nearest shop to hide, only to find himself in a clothes shop for teenage girls, where he had to spend 15 minutes pretending to look at shoes before he felt it was safe to go out. She knows I am laughing too, although I make no sound.

The rest of the letter tells me news that I’ve already heard through the emails, but that doesn’t matter. I feel warm inside because he has made the effort to put pen to paper, rather than just finger to keyboard, and sent me a letter. Modern technology is all very well, but there’s a feeling you get from receiving a letter that you just don’t get from an email.

Cecil puts the letter in the drawer by my bed. I can’t get it myself, but she will tell the nurses it is there and one of them might offer to read it to me again if she’s not too busy.

There are more letters, but she doesn’t have time to read them to me now. She too must get back to the school. She puts the envelopes on top of the cabinet and kisses me goodbye, promising to come back later. It’s alright that she’s going so soon. I know the school needs her and I’m tired. As she goes I close my eyes for a while.

 

#25:  Author: MaryR, Location: Sale Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 5:50 pm

Such beautiful, poignant writing. Crying or Very sad

Thank you, Liz, for seeing into the mind of a lonely old woman and showing how much is still going on there, how many feelings there still are, how much love she still feels.

 

#26:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 5:55 pm

This is heart-wrenching - thanks Liz.

 

#27:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 6:31 pm

This is beautifully written Liz!

*off to poke Liz for making me cry!*

 

#28:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 6:39 pm

Crying or Very sad

Poor Joey - but at least her family don't seem to have forgotten her. Thanks Liz

PS I'm on the wireless laptop at the moment which is very slow, and the only smilies that loaded were Sad and Crying or Very sad - the laptop obviously knows it's a tearjerker!

 

#29:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 6:58 pm

Thank you, Liz.

This so moving and beautifully written.

 

#30:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 8:53 pm

I doze for a while, my dreams filled with memories. In my dreams I’m young again and we’re on a family picnic to the auberge. The children are making the most awful noises and the rocks throw them back as beautiful echoes. My faithful Anna is there. What would I have done for all those years without her? In the kitchen, in the nursery, she was invaluable. What if she hadn’t turned down that proposal of marriage all those years ago – I couldn’t ever have found anyone to replace her. She stayed with me though, and did so much for us and the children. She never complained, never even told us she was ill, until that morning when she never got up. Jack blamed himself for some time afterwards, said he should have noticed she wasn’t well, but she never told us about the pains in her chest. That morning I went up to find her. She looked so peaceful. They said it was a massive heart attack and she never felt a thing. Someone said she was only a maid, but she was so much more than that. She was family. It was another gap in my life when she was gone. There are so many gaps now.

I realise I have moved from dreaming to thinking and I open my eyes. My thoughts are very melancholy today. And I make an effort to think of more cheerful times.

I remember Madge’s wedding to Jem, and other weddings over the years, Marie and Eugen, Simone and Andre, Phoebe and Frank, Hilary and Phil, Daisy and Tony, Len and Reg, Grizel and Neil. We were all so glad when Grizel finally found happiness.

Someone comes into the room with a tray of food. Not a nurse, they call them something else, a health care assistant they call them. She puts down the tray and tucks some paper towel around my neck. I have a sudden memory of rows of napkins neatly put in the drawer in the Speisesaal in Tirol.

“Now Jo,” she says loudly, even though I’m not deaf, “here’s your lunch”. I’ve never seen her before, but she calls me ‘Jo’ and the familiarity grates. She puts a spoonful of something puréed to my lips and I open them. I can’t tell what it’s supposed to be, but I try to swallow more than I dribble out. I know that by the end of the meal the paper towel will be soaked and I hope that she will wipe me clean properly so that I don’t have whatever it is encrusted in the folds of skin in my neck until I’m washed tomorrow morning.

Lunch is soon finished and I’m given some water from a special cup with a spout. It’s a bit like a baby feeder cup and in my mind I see the first twins, blonde-haired and blue-eyed sitting on a blanket with their cups. They’re not babies now of course. Felix travels the world as a photographer, and sends me postcards from exotic places. Felicity has just taken early retirement from her job as administrator in the Welsh branch of the San. She loved her job, but she says it’s glad to be leave, as it’s not like it used to be – she tells me that each year there are more and more procedures and red tape, more and more hoops to jump through. She will be moving back here soon and I’m looking forward to seeing her often.

 

#31:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:15 pm

Just caught up on this. So sad, Liz. Sad Thanks.

 

#32:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:26 pm

Brings back so many memories of my nan in the geriatric ward when I was a child

Poor Jo - to be so trapped

Thankyou Liz

 

#33:  Author: Helen P, Location: Crewe, Cheshire PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:29 pm

Oh Liz Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad

This is so well written, and so very poignant.

Lovely family for being there for Joey. Not so lovely Health Care Assistant! Evil or Very Mad

Thankyou. Smile

 

#34:  Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex PostPosted: Thu Oct 06, 2005 9:38 pm

Thank you Liz. Lots to think about! I can't believe you killed Robin! Shocked

 

#35:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 6:32 am

Thanks Liz... this is so well written.

 

#36:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:30 am

After lunch I have another visitor. This time it is Len and I am able to say her name. Her hair is no longer chestnut, but silvery-white and she has it plaited and twisted in a knob at the back of her head. It is still long. My hair is short now. It was cut to make it easier for the staff to look after. It looks like it did when I was 12, only it is thinner and no longer coal-black.

Len has brought Jack, my great-grandson, with her today. He reminds me of someone else, but I don’t want to remember right now, as it will make the tears come again and Len will worry. Jack is happy to sit on the floor and play with some toy cars he has brought with him.

Len is telling me about a telephone conversation she had with Con this morning. Con’s book, her last she says, has been accepted for publication. I remember the thrill when I got that letter from the publishers accepting Cecily holds the fort all those years ago and I understand that Con feels that same excitement again.

Len goes on to tell me that she has been to see Margot, and she is doing well. She has had a stroke, but they think that she will make a good recovery. I remember her as a frail baby and then the bouncing Bet of a girl who almost knocked me off my feet when I arrived in Canada. I wish I could go to be with her now, to sit with her and share our thoughts about the nurses and health thingummyjigs. We could laugh about how they need dear old Matey to show them how to make beds and dust a room. I can’t see much of my room at one time, but it bothers me that there’s a cobweb in the top corner of the window. It’s bothered me for a week now, but it’s not the nurses or the others who do the cleaning but bored-looking people in green uniforms who lethargically push a mop around and talk to each other about me as if I’m not here and able to understand every word.

I’m glad Margot is doing well; Len thinks they may let her come to see me in a wheelchair in a day or two if she continues to improve at this rate.

Like Cecil, Len understands me, even though I can’t get the right words out. Between us we write a note from me to Margot, so she knows I’m thinking of her and praying for her recovery.

Len picks up the unread letters and opens the top one. It looks like a normal envelope but it is a letter offering me a loan at what we are assured are very good rates. I don’t think I’ll take them up on the offer.

The next envelope is a card and I know who has sent it at once without Len telling me. It is from Daisy. She sends me a card every week. Len stands the card on the windowsill where I can see the picture. This week it is flowers. Last week it was a picture of the sea.

I look at it while I can. The nurse will move it on top of the cabinet where I can’t see it when she comes to close the curtains. There is one more letter left. Len opens it and starts to read. It is from Mike’s daughter, Penny, and it tells me that she is going to get married. There is a short note in there from Mike, promising that the whole event will be videoed so I will be able to watch it afterwards. Videoed! I only have two photographs, yellowed with age, from my wedding. I wish I could have those photos here to look at, but they would create too much work for the staff, dusting and so on.

Len is a widow now, like I am. She and Reg were as happy as Jack and I were, if that’s possible. Now, even though he’s gone her life is full – she has her children and grandchildren, and the women’s meetings and other activities to keep her busy, but she still has time to come to see me every day.

Len and baby Jack are leaving now, and I smile goodbye. Jack comes to kiss his Great Grandmamma, and then they go. Now I can think about who he reminds me of.

 

#37:  Author: MaryR, Location: Sale Cheshire PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:44 am

So many memories, so much sadness.

Thanks, Liz

 

#38:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 8:27 am

I now have a massive lump in my throat. At least Daisy still remembers her well.

*hugs* Liz... this much be really tough to write, but you do it so wonderfully.

 

#39:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:16 am

So sad. Thank you Liz.

 

#40:  Author: Robin, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:31 am

really sad. But good to hear about what has happened to everyone.

Thanks Liz

 

#41:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 10:29 am

Thanks Liz Crying or Very sad

 

#42:  Author: Helen P, Location: Crewe, Cheshire PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 11:04 am

It is sad, very sad, but somehow, there is hope as well.

I love the way you are writing this Liz - it moves along so slowly - every single detail is described, just as Jo is noticing every single detail while she still can. I feel as though I am right inside her head as I read it. Smile

Thankyou!

 

#43:  Author: Liane, Location: Manchester PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 12:15 pm

Thank you Liz, this is wonderful, in a sad way!

 

#44:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 12:30 pm

No parents should have to bury their children, but Jack and I had to bury Charles. A lecturer at Oxford, he tried to stop students from fighting. He didn’t know that one of them had a knife, although that wouldn’t have stopped him, but it isn’t right that someone so peaceful as Charles should have died a violent death like that. It was over 40 years ago now, but the pain does not fade. There wasn’t even time for us to say ‘goodbye’ before he went. By the time we were contacted he had already gone.

I feel the tears coming again and so I think of Charles that last time I saw him. Laughing and teasing his sisters, giving the children piggyback rides, discussing books with Geoff, telling us about a young lady he’d met. Sometimes I wonder about that girl; did she miss Charles as much as we did? It was so unfair that he was taken from this earth when the future could have held so much for him.

I hope that baby Jack, who looks so like the great-uncle he’s never met, will have a bright future. I wonder what he will do with his life, what kind of man he will be. I know he will be brought up, as all our boys were, to be an honest, hard-working man of integrity.

I remember all our boys – not just the sons I gave birth to, but the others who were part of the family – Roger and Roddy, and the first of our boys – Reg. I remember again that summer when we met Reg – the fun we had together, Simone, Marie, Frieda and our children up in Yorkshire. It was a beautiful summer, full of the small things in life that make it so special. I laugh to myself as I remember the policeman in his pyjamas and helmet when those men tried to steal the cello.

Cecil has come back again and I am surprised that the time has gone so quickly. Usually the day passes so slowly, but today, with the memories filling my mind the hours have flown by. Cecil is full of a story about a girl who was sent to her study. “She was trying that old trick of getting around the room without touching the floor, Mamma,” she laughs, “Do you remember Felicity got caught doing that?” I do remember, and I remember long ago when Cornelia tried it too. I want to ask if the girl was hurt, but I can’t say the words. Cecil understands the question in my eyes. “No, nobody was hurt, although one of the chairs will never be the same again.” Her eyes are still dancing with laughter.

A trolley is wheeled in and a tray of food put on the bedside table. Cecil stays to feed me my dinner. She is so patient and waits until she can see I am ready before giving me the next spoonful. We look at the mush and she tries to guess what it might be. I cannot eat all of it, but she does not scold me or try to make me eat more than I feel able. When I have had enough she puts it away, wipes my face gently, and then tells me more about her day. While she is talking the nurse comes in and, as I expected, moves the card from Daisy from the windowsill and closes the curtains. I am glad I looked at the card earlier, and when the lights are turned down, they never make it completely dark, I will remember what it looked like and look at it again in my mind.

 

#45:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 12:37 pm

LizB wrote:
No parents should have to bury their children, but Jack and I had to bury Charles. A lecturer at Oxford, he tried to stop students from fighting. He didn’t know that one of them had a knife, although that wouldn’t have stopped him, but it isn’t right that someone so peaceful as Charles should have died a violent death like that.


*sniff*

I wanted to quote the whole thing and do that, but I felt it would be superfluous.

This is so true to life it's almost unbelievable.

 

#46:  Author: Sarah_K, Location: St Albans PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 1:04 pm

*weeps*

I guess it's good that she has got all those memories inside her to keep her mind occupied. It's hard imagining her there without her photographs and where they move her cards even though you know the staff are doing their best for her it's heartbreaking.

Thank you Liz

 

#47:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 1:09 pm

Thank you Liz.

 

#48:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 2:40 pm

Thanks, Liz. This story is so lovely. It's nice to think that Cecil is headmistress of the CS.

 

#49:  Author: Amanda M, Location: Wakefield PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 2:54 pm

Thanks Liz.

 

#50:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 3:03 pm

Liz, this is absolutely beautiful

 

#51:  Author: LizB, Location: Oxon, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 5:18 pm

By the time Cecil leaves, it is nearly time for the lights to be turned down. The nurse comes round with some medicine first. I cannot remember what it is for, although I know they explained it to me very kindly when they started giving it to me. She fiddles around with various other things, writing down some notes in a folder. Then she asks me if I am comfortable, and moves my pillows. I actually felt more comfortable before, but I know she is trying to help, and the pillows will slip down into their usual place after a while.

The nurse goes, and for a little longer I can still see my room in the bright light, then the lights are dimmed and the shadows appear, making it look so different, although it is very familiar by now. I do not sleep much, but I do not mind the darkness. I remember moonlit sleigh rides, creeping around darkened dormitories to play pranks, or sitting up to catch out the prank players, watching the dawn creep in as I sit in a rocking chair cuddling a teething baby. The night is an old friend.

Although noises sound louder now it is night, there are fewer of them. Now it is quieter I can sing to myself, not out loud, my voice can only croak these days, but in my head I can hear the music, and the words to so many familiar songs flow through my mind. I know the nurse will come back in later and might stop and chat to me for a while if she is not too busy. She often tells me about her family, her two sons and her husband, and I like to listen.

After she has been, I close my eyes and let memories wander through my mind as I drift in and out of sleep. My childhood, my adulthood, my family, my friends. Some are sad, some are happy, but all are part of my life.

Suddenly I am wide awake and I feel a presence in the room. I open my eyes, but cannot see anybody. Then, somehow, I know. I smile, and hear my voice say “Jack”, then close my eyes one last time.

 

#52:  Author: Vikki, Location: Sitting on an iceberg, freezing to death!!! PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 5:30 pm

*sob*

Thank you Liz. That was beautiful.

 

#53:  Author: LadyGuinevere, Location: Leicester PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 5:54 pm

*sniffle*

That was beautiful.

 

#54:  Author: Amanda M, Location: Wakefield PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 6:05 pm

That was beautiful Liz, thank you.

 

#55:  Author: Ally, Location: Jack Maynard's Dressing Room!! PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 6:07 pm

Thank you Liz, such a beautiful story and a fitting ending.

 

#56:  Author: Lyanne, Location: Ipswich, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 6:27 pm

Thank you Liz. When I've finished with them, I'll leave the tissues in easy reach.

 

#57:  Author: francesn, Location: away with the faeries PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:07 pm

*gropes blindly for Lyanne's tissues*

I'm so glad she passed away happily. But Crying or Very sad

 

#58:  Author: Pat, Location: Doncaster PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:14 pm

That was lovely Liz. Thank you.

 

#59:  Author: Joy,  PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 7:43 pm

Rarely does a drabble make me cry, but tears came to my eyes as I read this. It is just beautiful. Thank you.

 

#60:  Author: Carolyn P, Location: Lancaster, England PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 8:12 pm

Oh wow.

That was wonderful. So sad, so beautiful.

I sat here looking at the post reply box and wondering how on earth I could manage to type a response.

wow.

 

#61:  Author: Lesley, Location: Allhallows, Kent PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 8:36 pm

I've just read the entire drabble Liz - you have me in tears.

Thank you.

Last edited by Lesley on Fri Oct 07, 2005 10:39 pm; edited 1 time in total

 

#62:  Author: Helen P, Location: Crewe, Cheshire PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:27 pm

Liz Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad Crying or Very sad

that was amazing. I enjoyed reading it so much, despite the tears.

Thankyou Smile

 

#63:  Author: Mia, Location: London PostPosted: Fri Oct 07, 2005 9:48 pm

Oh Liz, that was wonderful! Thank you. I'm so glad she had such a peaceful end and knew she was loved by her children.

 

#64:  Author: Cath V-P, Location: Newcastle NSW PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 12:55 am

Like Lesley, I've just read this complete, and it was so moving. That interplay between the care that is done without caring and is therefore no care at all, and the warmth and love of her family is so realistic. All the lovely detail, and the pace - the little things that grate and the small comforts that warm the heart. And the loneliness of old age; I can remember my Nanna with whom Mum and I lived, saying simply, "I am so lonely," and I know that she was.

Thank you Liz.

 

#65:  Author: Kathy_S, Location: midwestern US PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 1:18 am

Thanks, Liz.

*sniffles*

 

#66:  Author: Nell, Location: London, England PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 8:57 am

Thank you Liz. A beautiful ending.

 

#67:  Author: aitchemelle, Location: West Sussex PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 11:16 am

Thank you Liz

*Runs away to cry in private*

 

#68:  Author: Lisa, Location: South Coast of England PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 12:22 pm

*sitting shamelessly sobbing*

Oh. I have just read this all the way through, and it is beautiful. Yes, it is sad, but actually, Jo has a wondeful dignity and kindness about her and the way her family visit and care is a tribute to her.

On a personal level, my husband's nan (who, for complicated reasons is like my mother-in-law) will be 93 in a few months and these last six months she has suddenly started to go mentally downhill. It is very hard, but somehow this story has helped give me the strength to go on treating her with love and dignity and respect, even when things are getting frustrating and she is accusing us of things we haven't done Sad

Thank you Crying or Very sad

 

#69:  Author: Dawn, Location: Leeds, West Yorks PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 1:23 pm

Thankyou Liz - that was beautiful, even though I am now crying so much it's hard to type

Sending lots of hugs to all those for whom it has brought back memories and those who are currently struggling with much loved but sometimes difficult elderly relations

 

#70:  Author: Fatima, Location: Sunny Qatar PostPosted: Sat Oct 08, 2005 5:51 pm

Thank you, Liz, that was so moving. I have just read it all the way through, and am still sniffing. It was a beautiful piece of writing, and so believable.

 

#71:  Author: BethC, Location: Worcester, UK PostPosted: Sun Oct 09, 2005 6:07 pm

Thank you, Liz.

 

#72:  Author: Ann, Location: Newcastle upon Tyne, England PostPosted: Sun Oct 09, 2005 7:36 pm

Wonderful, Liz, thank you.

 

#73:  Author: Josie, Location: London PostPosted: Mon Oct 10, 2005 2:40 am

Thanks Liz.

 

#74:  Author: Miss Di, Location: Newcastle, NSW PostPosted: Mon Oct 10, 2005 6:34 am

That was so sad. Why do people insist on making me cry when I am at work?

I did have wry grin at the names being mixed up - my paternal grandma used to call me Helen Betty Gail Dianne. She knew who I was - just had to get the right one out!.

 

#75:  Author: keren, Location: Israel PostPosted: Mon Oct 10, 2005 9:24 am

Amoving story.
Nice from time to time to see the canonical family (i.e. nice people, who get on with each other), not those we love to criticise and pull to parts in other drabbles (which I also enjoy)

 

#76:  Author: pim, Location: Helmel Hampster PostPosted: Mon Oct 10, 2005 4:45 pm

Have just read the whole thing and am now trying to not cry in the public library Crying or Very sad

Thank you Liz for a wonderufl drabble *off to sniffle*

 

#77:  Author: JustJen, Location: Dorval, Quebec PostPosted: Wed Oct 12, 2005 9:18 pm

what a lovely story

 

#78:  Author: Chair, Location: Rochester, Kent, England PostPosted: Thu Oct 13, 2005 2:41 pm

Thanks, Liz. That was such a lovely ending.

 

#79:  Author: Changnoi, Location: New Mexico, USA PostPosted: Thu Oct 13, 2005 3:05 pm

I just read this...

...sobbing...

Is this what my future will hold, but without the eleven children?

Chang
who doesn't want to die in a nursing home.

 

#80:  Author: MaryR, Location: Sale Cheshire PostPosted: Sun Oct 16, 2005 2:31 pm

That was a most moving, evocative, gentle slant on old age and all that it means.

I think it should be required reading for all those caring for the elderly.

Thank you so much for being inspired to write it, Liz.

 

#81:  Author: Sarah_G-G, Location: Sheffield (termtime), ? any other time! PostPosted: Sat Oct 22, 2005 3:56 pm

I've been in tears for most of the way through this but they were good tears (if that makes sense). Thank you for posting a lovely piece of writing.

 

#82:  Author: Alice, Location: London, England PostPosted: Sun Nov 20, 2005 1:43 pm

I've just found this. Thank you Liz, that was beautiful.

 

#83:  Author: Identity Hunt, Location: UK PostPosted: Mon Nov 21, 2005 1:53 pm

Hi Liz
I have just read this straight through.
How poignant it is.
A wonderful drabble !

 

#84:  Author: Mrs Redboots, Location: London, UK PostPosted: Tue Nov 22, 2005 6:03 pm

I, too, have been weeping, thinking of my grandmothers.... and of my father, now 82, and dreading, dreading going senile....

Thank you, though, for the story.

 

#85:  Author: RuthY, Location: Anyone's guess PostPosted: Fri Dec 16, 2005 4:00 pm

Crying or Very sad

Lovely but really sad as well!

Thank you Liz.

 

The CBB -> St Agnes's House


output generated using printer-friendly topic mod, All times are GMT

Page 1 of 1

Powered by phpBB 2.0.6 © 2001,2002 phpBB Group