Irene Thompson (3 Apr 1921 - 26 Sep 2018)

Memories of My Mum / Tribute to a Lady
As I set out on my journey from Cologne back to my homeland the weather gods accompanied me. The heavens opened as tears fell whilst I, without any distracting music, followed the path opening up down memory lane. But then reaching Belgium, the clouds parted, tears dried, even blue skies could be seen behind the fluffy clouds along the coast. There in a nutshell: the sadness of the loss of someone so dear, but also gratitude - a blessing that Mum was able to pass away peacefully. Somehow everything fitted into place. Think I needed that journey!
Certain images came to mind:
First time I remember being really proud of our Mum was seeing her walking through the playground of Leagrave Junior School. She wore the costume she had just finished sewing. Blue with tiny white dots. A straight, well fitting dress with a small bolero. She must have been in her mid 40s. A picture. Walking with her head high, an elegant gait… & I remember thinking `Wow, that’s my Mum!´
Her mother had taken great care that all her girls (Mum was 1 of 4 sisters) should act in a lady-like manner. It was evident in how she moved her hands/fingers, e.g. when holding teacups, her posture when sitting, the way she would ask & thank people for assisting her, her attitude in general… earning her the nickname ‘Queen Mum’ amongst our clan.
There was the mishap she had crossing the stream at Betsy-Coed, Wales. First evening of our holidays on route to Angelsey. She’d slipped on the boulders. No large splash! She managed to slide gracefully into the midst of the stream whilst our Dad started swearing his head off. She couldn’t help laughing, which didn’t make getting up easy. But she was like that – often seeing the funny side of things. Guess we’ve all inherited that sense of humour!
I learnt a lot from Mum. I haven’t pursued all her hands-on activities. Until her later years, always a busy bee: knocking up clothes – don’t remember ever having had a school uniform from the shop rail. Blouses, skirts & dresses. Knitting jumpers & cardigans filled the evenings. She was always on her toes. Evening classes to learn cake icing, languages… Still have the image of her standing on a ladder in her shorts & what we’d nowadays call a tango top, with a hat made of newspaper to keep the paint & sun of her head. A dab hand at renovating & took pride in the results!
A lady yes, one with a twinkle in her eye, ready for a good laugh, game to try things out.
An open mind. Someone who had never been out of the country until I left. She certainly developed a taste for travelling. Visiting us offspring, living abroad, reuniting with cousins the other side of the world, discovering new places, acquainting herself with the history, culture & language of wherever she was travelling to. Wonder if anyone else takes such advantage of the free bus pass. Mum was always off.
She had a taste for the bohemia. Family & friends would laugh at her not being able to keep her feet still when the music tickled her fancy. A little dance – yes, she was out to enjoy life! Even at the age of 95, her last trip over to us, she was all go for seeing some more of the local sights, a boat trip down the Rhine.
As I opened the heavy metal door to the outer deck of the ferry on my way over, I again relived how she fell. We were on our way back. Flying was too strenuous. Driving with the chance to enjoy a bit of sea air on deck – great. But she lost her balance as the door slammed to. Never blamed me! A new hip at that age! And she coped. As she always coped through life.
No more trips abroad, no more bus rides through the local countryside.
But she was never one to dwell on negatives. Pragmatic. Things are as they are – best make the most of them – better a smile on your face than a tear in your eye!
Never really recovered properly from that fall – it was the fall of her, so to speak. Perhaps she’d have lived on to receive that letter from the queen. But then, she might have gone heads over whilst dashing round town with her wheeler.
Sure, she had some traits others had difficulties with, but we were a good team. She was always there when I needed support. Selfless.
For me she was the perfect Mum!
Thanks for everything, Mum. You’ll always be in my heart.