Last month a dear friend passed away. She was not young, she was in her eighties
and had been placed in a rest home at the end of last year. But no one expected that her end was imminent. She was not a physically strong lady and had
never been. She was unable to walk
unassisted and had ear and eyesight problems.
But health wise, there was no real concern of any problem that would
cast doubts that she may not live for another “wee” while (she used that “wee”
phrase often, her Scottish heritage).
Therefore when I was in Italy and received an email from her
son to tell me she had died I was in a state of disbelief and had to read and
reread the email over and over again so that I knew the words I were reading
were real. It is so awfully sad to lose
a friend but to lose one when you are so far away and without someone to share
the pain with makes the grief all the more deeply painful. It’s a lonely place to be – grieving on your
own.
It was not helped by the knowledge that my being away
overseas for such a long period may not have helped her will to live. I am not stating that in an egotistical way
but knew how important my visits to her were.
She did not have many visits from anyone and each day she would have
great hopes that perhaps this day would be the day I or some other visitor
would walk through the door to sit and spend time with her. She loved to “mull” a few things over.
When I did last visit before my departure I was dreading the
question which I knew she would ask. She
asked me how long I was going to be in the UK and when would I be back. I hesitated as didn’t want to tell her, but
had to. When I told her that I may not
be back until September I saw the instant blanket of sadness and disappointment
fall across her face. It will last
forever in my mind.
I know my friendship with Ella was something she
treasured. Ella had moved from her
homeland of Scotland twenty years ago when her husband had unexpectedly died; she had left her life-long friends behind in
the very street she had lived in all her married life. When she came to New Zealand she was unable
to make a new and real selection of her own friends as due to a mild handicap
she was unable to get out and about and be independent. Ella had to rely on having friends visit her,
not the other way around. And in
reality, apart from her son, Tony and I were her only friends for a period. Over the years two of our own friends did add
two more people to her New Zealand Christmas
card list and gave her two more people to enjoy sharing cups of tea and scones
and sausage rolls with.
Knowing what it would mean to her to not have my visits to
look forward to for four months I made a promise to her that I felt would give
her something to enjoy looking forward to.
I had told her that I would be making a visit to her home town on
Dumfries, in Scotland, and that I would call and visit her friends and
neighbours who she missed so much. This
certainly did lift her spirits as some of them had been regularly writing to
her over the years and one in particular she held very dear. That was a lady who Ella used to described as
“my daughter”; Ella only ever had one
child, the son. But Linda was Ella’s
“daughter”, a lady, younger than me, who Ella had known when Linda and her
husband had moved into Ella’s neighbourhood when they were in their twenties . Ella had grown as fond of Linda and her
children as any mother would for a real blood daughter and her children.
So I told Ella I would visit Dumfries. I had no initial intention of travelling up
to the West Coast of Scotland when I first planned my UK trip, but for Ella, it
was worth making the commitment. It
would be the least I could do for her. When I left that last visit to her in the rest
home I left with a list of people who I was given instructions to call and see
and a committed promise to her that I would take lots of photos – of her old
home, her ‘daughter’, her neighbours and her friends. That would give her much to look forward to,
or so I thought.
But sadly, she died.
With her passing away there would be no point in making a
trip to Dumfries. There was no one to
report back to, no one to take gossip, or news or photos to on my return.
But I have been. Just
been. I have a strong loyalty to people
who are important to me, and when I make a commitment to do something for them,
I do it. I will never knowingly let
anyone down. It was important to Ella
that I go and meet with Linda, her ‘daughter’.
It was important to Ella that I go visit the street she had lived in. The rest home she has worked most of her
married life in. The neighbours she knew
so well. The town and streets she walked
and grew up in as a child. It was all
important to Ella that she shared her past life with me. I had promised her I would go, so I went.
I am glad I did. Even
though I am typing all of this up whilst sitting in the biggest traffic jam I
have ever experienced whilst driving back to Wales from Dumfries – and more
than likely will have to make an emergency booking in a hotel somewhere – I
have visited Dumfries, been hosted by Linda and been taken by Linda to all
those places that were important to Ella.
And more. Linda took me to
Ella’s husband’s grave – the grave where we are presuming Ella will eventually
be laid to rest, with her Jim. It was consoling to see where she will be laid
to rest.
I felt sad, and I felt happy. Linda and some of the old neighbours had some
lovely personal reminiscences of Ella that gave one a small indication of how
much Ella did mean to them and all their children for all the decades they and
Ella had lived in the Dumfries.
Not only that, but I had had the joy of driving through the
Scottish countryside, seen some truly beautiful countryside and coastline. The weather has been absolutely magnificent
with blue, blue skies and temperatures that one could only wish for. It is mid-summer here and as a result the
hills and fields look beautiful. They
are either being used for very picturesque cattle grazing, or for rye growing,
or for hay making. And today there have
been many marvellous haymaking scenes of picture painting settings. With that and all the woods and babbling
brooks there have been a number of moments that I felt I was living in a
Constable painting. Just needed the
little dog and the haywain.
Even now, being stuck in this major traffic jam - I am on a
back B road in the Lancashire countryside and every ten or twelve minutes the
car can move forward thirty metres – so over the past few hours I have moved a
mere three kilometres - but even in all
this the countryside and the tiny little villages are beautiful that I have
seen roads and villages I would never have seen had we not been diverted this
way off the M6. And I have seen them for
a longer period than most! A good ten
minute stare at a village church spire does great things to the soul.
So, all in all. Thank
you Ella. Thank you for having me travel
to Dumfries. Thank you for giving me
some special Scottish experiences; thank you for enabling me to have a new
friend in Linda, your ‘daughter’; thank you for having me spend some special
time with her in her home and even meeting some of her family; thank you for
having me revisit your old home and neighbours; thank you for taking me back to
old times and for having me live in a Constable painting for a couple of days.
Another example of how something sad, with a little
planning, can become a magical lifetime positive - even in a horrendous UK traffic jam.
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