|Talking About Joan 3
||[Feb. 6th, 2017|08:05 pm]
Joan spent the last decades of her life in Brede, Sussex. She had Kathleen living with her for many years and after Kathleen died she cared for her widowed sister Ethel. She had some sort of book-keeping job- working, I think, for a local garage. Here she is doing it.|
She died in the 1990s. Her bungalow- when we went back to it after the funeral- struck me as the most impersonal home I'd ever been in- functional furniture, white goods and next to nothing that betrayed tastes or character. My father asked us all to help ourselves to a souvenir and Ailz and I settled on just about the only thing with a bit of quirk to it- a coffee table she'd had made by a local craftsman. It's in the front room now. While we sitting having our funeral tea the alarm clock in her bedroom- which hadn't been set- started to ring. It was as though she was saying, "I'm still around, you know." My father, Joan's favourite surviving relative, pulled the same stunt after his funeral. Perhaps Joan showed him how to do it.
Here she is doing it.
I know you said she dealt with depression in later life, but this photograph does not look tense; do you know who took it?
My father, Joan's favourite surviving relative, pulled the same stunt after his funeral. Perhaps Joan showed him how to do it.
It looks like something that could have been taken for the local newspaper- by which I mean it feels professional but not top of the range.
Still, it's a nice shot. I chose it because she looks happy in it. She had a sparky, mischievous side to her.
She had a sparky, mischievous side to her.
That's worth remembering about a person.
I found a memorandum book of hers. I think she was making notes on a talk she was hearing or a book she was reading- and it's all about being positive about life and keeping your energy levels up...
She looks like a lovely woman, friendly, and perhaps with a handle on the depression. She never remarried then and took care of family for the rest of her life?
I like the idea of the alarm ringing.
I wish that I could have been at Nana's funeral -- no one told me! Same with Grandpa!
The nerve of some people!! =(
LOL @ Joan showing your dad a thing or two.. LOL
That's a shame.
Mind you, I hate funerals. I think we do them really badly.
You are not alone with this. I hate funerals. The last one I went was my friend Margot some years back. Ugh....
I wasn't there but I was told about it.
The minister was burying his own wife. They'd been very close and they'd shared a vibrant Christian faith. He took his place up front, by the coffin, and said, "To hell with death. Let's celebrate!"
Now that's the way to do it.