To all the world, bar me, this is an unremarkable piece of laundry marking; a soft blue embroidery thread used to stitch a name with very basic stitches into the edge of a pillowcase. To me, this speaks of a soft faced, elegantly spoken, refined elderly lady with round, pink, powdered cheeks, Mrs Tiggy-winkle eyes and the sweetest smile, eking out a life of genteel poverty during the early1970s in the deep recesses of St Leonards on Sea.
She was Norah Moore and had been one of two ladies who rented rooms in Ganna’s house. They took up the top floor of an Edwardian semi, where they shared the kitchen and bathroom, but retired to their own individual rooms; paying guests. Mum and I took over those rooms when we moved to live with Ganna in 1968 after Daddy died. Later, Mum would take me to visit Norah, in her two room bedsit in yet another St Leonard’s Edwardian: this a stone's throw from Nanya's first abode with her three girls. I'm sure I was given sweets, butterscotch bricks wrapped in gold paper with a crispy crunch to them; Callard and Bowser as I recall.
Mrs Moore had been married, and had a little girl of her own, but some tragedy, possibly wartime, stripped her of husband, child and meaning in her life. I remember the sadness in me, that this kindly soul had gone through such tragedy.
I may be the only person in the world who remembers her
A lovely person to remember, though!
ReplyDeleteIndeed she is, a little treasured vignette from childhood
DeleteI came on a headstone inscription recently: 'The immortality of the dead is in the minds of the living.' (The quotation is from Sean O'Casey's Innisfallen: Fare Thee Well.) It's a lovely sentiment, I think, and of course one that I, as a historian, particularly appreciate. But then you know that already!
ReplyDeleteA very true sentiment, but perhaps also there is some immortality in the artefacts they leave behind
DeleteAwww, I found this very moving...how lovely...x
ReplyDeleteHello Anny, thank you, she was a lovely soul
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