24th January 2015

The trauma of the past few weeks has left us all drained. After the necessary task of informing relatives and Nan’s friends of the sad news, recounting the events of the past weeks only intensified our emotions. A couple of days after Nan’s passing, the Rothwells, Sarah, and I met in Dingley Woods to walk one of our favourite routes, hoping to fill the empty void. Nan particularly enjoyed this walk, especially in spring when the bluebells were in bloom. We have some lovely photos of Nan and the family posing among those beautiful spring flowers. As usual, we enjoyed the rope swings, discovered a hidden wooden shelter, and conducted our annual search for mythical bears. As in the past, we didn’t find any, but the evidence was plentiful, making it worthwhile to return next year. Afterwards, we drove to Braybrook and had refreshments at The Swan.

There have been many tasks to complete and arrangements to make. Not least, the most unpleasant of all was registering Nan’s death. On the 13th, Charlotte and I visited Kettering Hospital for the last time to collect the doctor’s certificate, before proceeding to Kettering Registry to complete the procedure with a rather indifferent bureaucrat. Afterwards, we visited the Co-op Funeral Directors in Harborough to make funeral arrangements. Sue had recommended them, and I had heard they were excellent. This turned out to be true.

A couple of days later, I had a morning dentist check-up, and as I had an appointment with the vicar (Susan Cooper) that afternoon, Charlotte and Sarah made themselves available. I had called Nan’s sister, Josie, before the visit to make notes on Nan’s childhood to help my memory and provide material for the eulogy. Susan was sensitive and made the process easier than I had anticipated.

I contacted an old friend from Farndon Fields, Pat Edwards, to cater for us, and she kindly agreed. We had hoped to host the tea in the lounge at Huntingdon Gardens, which would have made it easier to invite Nan’s friends from there. However, the builders were still upgrading the building, and it wouldn’t be ready in time for the funeral. Thankfully, the landlord of the Royalist pub around the corner (whom I used to teach) offered us the pub lounge, which we gratefully accepted, solving the problem of refreshments.

During this time, Sue, Sarah, and Charlotte were busy sorting Nan’s things, as Seven Locks (the management company) required the property to be emptied. I took on the task of sorting the paperwork and making necessary phone calls at home, as I couldn’t face dismantling and disposing of Nan’s possessions. The local charity shop (Air Ambulance) did well, and many items that weren’t wanted by the family sold quickly on Facebook. Fortunately, Sarah is soon to move into her first home and needs quite a few household items.

In the days before the funeral, Sarah and I visited Nan at the Chapel of Rest. She looked so peaceful and surprisingly young. Nan’s favourite Care Bear and teddy bear collection were placed alongside her, inside a beautiful casket appearing as though it would dissolve into the lovely, bright, flower-strewn meadow scene that covered its outside surfaces. She would have been so pleased, and I think it contributed to the slight look of smugness on her face. Sarah didn’t think she looked like Nan anymore, but when I showed her a photograph of Nan in her twenties that I had included in the Order of Service, she had to agree that it was. Sarah and Charlotte visited again the next day and placed some pictures of Lucas and Ellis next to Nan, two little boys that she adored.

The funeral took place on Wednesday, 21st January. The weather forecast was horrendous, with heavy overnight snow expected. While it was damp and cold in Harborough, we learned that our Yorkshire relatives had five inches of snow, yet the Welsh relatives, who live on top of a mountain, only had fog. To our relief, everyone committed to the journey, and all arrived and met at our house prior to the funeral cortege. David had flown in from Bulgaria again, and I picked him up from the train station in the morning. I went with him to see Nan at rest, and I think it helped. Sue had made a delicious chicken casserole for our visitors, who had travelled from far and wide, and it was much appreciated by all when they arrived. It was lovely to see our relatives meet and chat, providing comfort and support to each other.

When the hearse arrived on time at 3.15 pm, it was accompanied by Susan Cooper. Close family members occupied the second limousine, while my family (less Ellis, who was at school) took the first one, following Nan. We were surprised and pleased when the cortege proceeded slowly down Welland Park Road, preceded by a marching attendant, appropriately dressed and carrying a silver cane. Nan would have loved that.

Upon arrival at the crematorium, David and I were instructed on our duties as pallbearers while the rest of the mourners waited patiently. I was surprised at how heavy the casket was. Nan had always told me she needed to lose some weight! We led the procession into the chapel while ‘Myfanwe’ played in the background and placed Nan on the dais, with her friends and family taking their seats. After a short welcome from the priest, Jamie, Charlotte, and Sarah shared their memories of Nan.

**JAMIE:**

“I think we can all agree that Nan was special. And her most endearing quality was her sense of independence. She knew what she wanted to do, and God help anyone who got in her way. As a family, we would cringe when Nan decided she wanted to have her say, and no one could predict what it would be.

Years ago, at a friend’s wedding, she stood up during the reception speech and announced that my dad was going to deliver a speech on behalf of the Palmers. At 18, having no knowledge of the bride or groom, he did as he was told and still bears the scars of that memory today.”

**CHARLOTTE:**

“I think we can all agree that Nan could be the most stubborn person you could ever hope to meet. We were never left in any doubt about the things she didn’t want to do and, more importantly, the things she was going to do.

When we lived at our old house in Fairfield Road, my mum had a moped, and it was always Nan’s desire to have a go on it. Most probably thinking that if it were easy, she would buy one herself. Despite our protests, she mounted the moped, refused any instructions, saying, ‘It’s just like riding a bike,’ and set off down the drive.

Picking up speed, she headed for one of the apple trees. Realising her dilemma, she twisted the accelerator instead of the brake and, at the last moment, grabbed onto one of the branches as the moped continued on its way. Swinging from the branch, she refused to discuss the matter further, blaming the stupid moped.”

**SARAH:**

“What can I say? Nan would often get herself into a stew about anything that had to be arranged or organised, much preferring to wing it and do her own thing. But, boy, could she make stew! If you haven’t tasted it, it’s your loss.

Nan was the most generous and loving person to us all. We were always spoilt, no matter the time of year. She would collect her 5p’s in a little pot and enjoyed sharing them between the three of us.

But we do share a little secret with our Nan. Often, when we were visiting Steadfolds Lane, the three of us would quietly listen for Mum and Dad going to bed, then one by one sneak into Nan’s room to sleep. She never complained, nor did she ever let on to Mum and Dad.

THANK YOU, NAN… FOR BEING JUST THE WAY YOU ARE.”

We sang ‘Lord of Hopefulness’, chosen because it’s my favourite hymn and was sung every Friday afternoon by Farndon Fields School before the children left for home. We also sang it at my father’s funeral, and it somehow seemed even more appropriate now.

After a Bible reading by Susan Cooper, she gave the eulogy. Despite the sad circumstances, the content caused smiles and nods of recognition, as Nan’s character and spirit were outlined with many descriptive examples that made her passing a little more bearable. Nan would have approved.

We sat and reflected while ‘A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square’ played. Only a month earlier, Sue and Nan had attended a Glenn Miller tribute concert in Kettering, and Nan had sung along to all the tunes.

After the ‘Lord’s Prayer’, the Commendation and Committal followed, and as the curtain closed, Vera Lynn’s ‘We’ll Meet Again’ played. It was so hard to say that final farewell.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We stayed a while to admire the beautiful flowers that had been thoughtfully arranged outside before heading to the Royalist to meet the residents and friends of Nan, whom we had invited for tea. Pat had prepared a splendid buffet, which was much appreciated by the relatives who had travelled such a long way to help celebrate Nan’s life. Sarah and Charlotte had created a slideshow of over 500 photos of Nan, which we played on her own TV in the bar, which we had carried around to the pub earlier that morning. There was much laughter and many smiles as family and friends looked at some of Nan’s memorable moments (she was no shy, retiring flower). It was lovely and helped break the ice between the three groups of family: Parsonage, Palmer, and Nixon.

The entertainment continued with Lizzy, one of the residents at Huntingdon Gardens and a friend of Nan, who first stood up with Ellis to sing a song (how sweet!), then, buoyed by the praise of the guests, sang two more in tribute to Thelma.

As the evening went on, people began to leave to make their way home, some stopping by Willow Bank for a cup of tea. The last to leave the Royalist were Charlotte, Sarah, Jamie, me, Suraj, and our new family member, Lee. We tidied up the buffet and turned off the TV before joining Sue back at the house, where she had returned earlier to put the kettle on for everybody.

When all had left Willow Bank, Suraj and Lee returned to the pub to collect the TV and the remaining buffet. We spent a relatively subdued evening with an early night.

The next day, I took David to the train station to catch his afternoon flight home to Bulgaria from Luton. A few days later, we discovered that we would be seeing him again sooner than expected, as Genya’s mother had passed away soon after he returned. He will be driving back this coming weekend. Our thoughts are with them both.

We gathered again as a family that evening at the Nepalese restaurant in Desborough (Gurkha) for a lovely meal, which helped ease the sadness of the past few weeks.

On Saturday morning, Sue, Charlotte, and I travelled to Smeeton Westerby for the first Council Walk of the year. The weather was cold but bright and sunny. Afterwards, we enjoyed a pleasant lunch at the ‘King’s Head’.

Today, Sue and I are travelling to Southampton to catch the cruise ship ‘Oceana’ on Monday. I had booked our passage on the ship as Sue’s Christmas present, though, in the past few weeks, we had often thought we would have to cancel.