« Chapter 5 | Main | 14 - Two Grins Meet »

A Shout From The Attic: Auntie Nora's Children

...We would have a drink and some conversation on life’s mediocrities. She was pleasant and even-tempered. Her children were fortunate to have had her for a mother....

Ronnie Bray tells of family links. To read earlier chapters of his life story please click on A Shout From The Attic in the menu on this page.

Auntie Nora died of a heart attack at a relatively young age. She had four children, Brian, who went into the Royal Navy, served many years as a joiner. On leaving the Navy he worked for some years at Mitre Sports in Huddersfield. He never married, and although he lives at Alandale Road, Bradley, I have seen him twice in about forty-five or so years.

Shirley married Martin Blackburn and had three children, David, Susan, and Dawn. When David was a toddler, he drank cleaning fluid kept under the sink and suffered serious corrosive injuries to his gullet and stomach. Dawn had two boys, but continues to live at home. Shirley bought a café at Moldgreen, Huddersfield, the ‘Sit A While’ Café. For many years, Martin was a cabinetmaker at Ellis’s factory on Wakefield Road, at Green Cross, from where he retired. The marriage has not been happy.

The next of Auntie Nora’s children is Audrey. She married an accident-prone wagon driver, Brian Hurran, and lives somewhere in Leicestershire. She became a Latter-day Saint, but is not active in her faith.

The youngest child is Keith. He did well at school, got a good job, and I have heard nothing of him since. Uncle Will died some years after Nora, also from a heart attack.

The Steads, without Uncle Will, visited us frequently at 121. I enjoyed their visits because they were happy children and we got along well. Now I am sad that we lost touch, although I did see Shirley from time to time before my move to America. Many years ago, I travelled to Leicestershire to baptise Audrey.

Aunt Nora was a good-natured woman, who coped with the demands of family and life in an uncomplaining way. It was a pleasure to visit her, which I did more often when she lived at Harpe Inge, Dalton, and we lived in the next street, Brock Bank. After she had swapped Nanny’s Pianola for a china cabinet, an important status symbol at the time, now an irrelevance, I felt no less love and respect for her. That disappointment was the only one she introduced into my life. In all other ways, she was a breath of Spring, for she always treated me well, and I felt comfortable in her company.

When I visited her home, we would have a drink and some conversation on life’s mediocrities. She was pleasant and even-tempered. Her children were fortunate to have had her for a mother.

Now they are gone, the old familiar faces.

Categories

Creative Commons License
This website is licensed under a Creative Commons License.