ENDNOTE
Although mother had never been a well woman she continued to keep herself busy and involved in the lives of her children, particularly Andrew and Adel who lived only a few yards away in the old farmhouse.
She never did become involved with village activities but always appreciated her many visitors who kept her in touch with events in the local community. However, she retained her interest in politics and her commitment to the Conservative Party. Even during the last couple of weeks of her life she insisted that someone should post her vote for the Tory leadership contest. She would have been pleased to learn that her candidate, Ian Duncan-Smith, had been successful, but sadly she had died before his victory was announced.
Along with her keen interest in politics she avidly followed the various snooker matches shown regularly on Sky T.V. The family could easily tease and upset her when her favourite Jimmy White lost, especially to Stephen Hendry. In spite of her claims that her sight had gone she could still manage to identify the various coloured snooker balls on the television and keep abreast of the news in her daily paper, 'The Yorkshire Post'.
In her seventies she still managed to travel and especially enjoyed her trips to Canada where she spent several weeks at a time with Geraldine and Tom. In turn they would get over each year to stay with her. Their eldest son, Vernon, was particularly close to his Granny even whilst living in Iran and then Dubai. He would pop over to see her when on business in Europe; theirs was a very special relationship.
My brother John and his wife, Judy, suffered a major loss when their two sons, David and Edward, had a motor-cycle accident. Edward, a teenager full of life and energy, was killed and David had major surgery on his back. Fortunately David went on to make an almost full recovery and with Susan has a family of his own. John and David together continue to farm and run their haulage business. Living next door to each other they continue to invest their time and energy into their growing family.
When mother was seventy-five the family met together for a meal in the local village of Ricall. This was also the time when John and I said good-bye to them as we were moving to North Devon very soon. Travelling to North Devon was as big a venture as flying to Canada. However, we were to see mother twice in the following few years.
Mother's first visit to North Devon coincided with a visit from Sister Theresa, a colleague whom I had worked with in Derby. The picture of them that will remain etched in my memory is of these two very different women trying to play crazy golf on the seafront at Ilfracombe. They were like a pair of young girls, laughing and shrieking as they were buffeted in the wind totally oblivious of the amusement they afforded to the many onlookers. Even if the weather had been calm I doubt that they could have actually hit the ball.
By the time she was eighty mother was very frail indeed and although she desperately wished to visit her family it remained impossible. Although we spoke on the telephone each Sunday evening for an hour or so she resented her physical limitations. She tenaciously battled on and would often collapse whilst trying to do things for herself. Only in the last year or so would she accept an electric fire in the lounge and then only because her 'accidents' had become more frequent. Up until then she could be seen pushing the wheelbarrow to the wood-pile in the stackyard in spite of having collapsed and luckily being found by grandson Dan.
Always mentally alert she continued to give meaning to her life, writing her diary of farming news, watching politics and snooker, knitting for her many great-grandchildren, and working on Readicut rugs for family weddings and birthdays.
When finally she lost her mobility she also lost the security of knowing she could manage to continue living alone. This was particularly painful for someone who valued their independence so much. Even after she was hospitalised in her final year she managed to return to her home until the last few weeks of her life. Without the commitment from Margaret, Andrew, Adel and John this would not have been possible. A few months before she died Geraldine managed to fly over from Canada to spend a week with her in the bungalow that she so loved.
Having struggled to cheat death, of which she was afraid, her final minutes were peaceful, most of the family at her bedside. Nobody would ever be able to describe mother as a peaceful woman in life, her struggle against crippling arthritis and a series of small strokes over many years had seen to that, however her family know they were everything to her and also that they had been there for her when it mattered most.
Mother's funeral at Hemingborough Chapel took place on the same day as the various memorial services were being held for the victims of the World Trade Centre tragedy that had taken place on September 11th. Since that time many people have used the phrase: 'the world is a different place'. For our family this is also true at a personal level. Without doubt I believe we find our world to be different without the strong-minded mother who had lived all her life in the same parish of Hemingborough and Cliffe in the county of Yorkshire.
Joan Wilkinson (nee Holman)
North Devon
November 2001
