When I was quite young I remember watching a huge funeral on the telly, not really understanding what was going on, but knowing that it was very important.
Hopefully, watching this today is a little boy of about the same age with similar feelings, of not quite knowing what is going on. I say to you, George, that we share in your bemusement, with surprise and disbelief at the so sudden loss of our mother, Nana, erstwhile spouse and friend, our beloved Christine.
Mum was always loving, even if at times that was tough love, always helpful and friendly, but with a sharp wit which allowed her to give as well as she got. Her immense domestic practicality with wonderful cooking, sewing, knitting and clothes-making (as well as drinking Gin) left us in awe. She made and mended for the rich and famous, and also for us, making Ruth’s wedding dress and then dresses for all the bridesmaids as well, ticking that off her bucket list quite early on. After Tweedy’s passing, she took up the bucket list again, famously with solo trips to both the Arctic to see the polar bears, and to the Antarctic too.
Mum was born in Darlington shortly before the war, to Jack and Edna Salisbury, and not long after gained a brother, Richard. The family moved down to Birmingham, as it turned out on D-Day, but luckily their van wasn’t requisitioned en-route. Not long after that they moved to Southam rd, less than a mile away from here. Her baby brother John was born sometime later and due to the large age difference she and Richard were often sent out of the house and told not to return until teatime – a freedom and responsibility that few children get today, so I’m sure that she would have been very familiar with this place even as a child. I learned recently that she had been a bit of a teenage smoker, revealing her hidden rebellious side – I imagine this happened when her maternal aunt Jessie came to visit. Christine was sent to keep the chain-smoker company on the circular bus route round Birmingham and I’m sure had a crafty ciggie or two with her.
Mum married our father, another John, and they moved to Corby, and later to London, bringing up the three of us in the swinging sixties. Coalecroft rd was to my memory a very friendly and social place with many convivial neighbours and lots of dinner parties. We also had a cottage in west Wales with happy memories of long hot summers at one of the more or less accessible beaches, and colder days gathered round a roaring fire.
After the breakup of her marriage she moved to a smaller house in the same street, and then met Tweedy, a retired military man with some lovely dogs. When they retired completely they moved to Knowle and began a new chapter in their lives, with new friends, and a closer relationship with her brother John and his growing family. Mum’s loving nature and strong character shone when Tweedy had strokes that rendered him partially disabled and she became his carer. I believe her tough love saved him from further illness and gained him a few extra years, but boy did he complain...
After he died, she scouted for a more practical home and snapped up 8 Cook Close as soon as it was available. Ever practical, but with her eye for lovely things she made it a beautiful home and garden for her final years. It was here that she made her independent life, pursuing her love of nature and her interest in her community, and thankfully living life as it was meant to be lived, spending the money her children don’t need (as she put it) . I’m glad Mum that you kept your independence right up to the end, and that the end, when it came was not marred with great pain, except for us at our loss.