Everyday I Write The Book

By Eyecatching

Reflections on a fair lady

My mum died four years ago today. She truly was a timeless star and a very fair lady indeed. Loved a good Hollywood musical too; like many of her generation (she was born in 1922, same year as the BBC) she grew up with the South London flea pits as her second home, and went to see a film every week. The tale of the time she left her younger sister, my aunt, sitting on the steps of the Woolwich Odeon whilst she went to watch Clark Gable is a family legend; she got bawled out, clipped around the ear and grounded for an uncharacteristically selfish act.

She was in truth one of the most loving people you could ever meet, although apt to say it as she saw it.  Intelligent but denied opportunity she lived through the blitz, became a post war communist, bought up three children, was a single parent long before it was common and yet always worked and made time for others. As a grandmother she was legendary for her fairy cakes and Sunday roasts and a whole generation remember sleepovers and Sunday afternoon visits to Nana Amy.

She is still a legend. Our fair lady in fact, a real matriarch although we each have our own cherished memories. The extra is from 2006 when she was already 84 years old and looked wonderful. Happy reflections ...

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