Happy Baby.

 

The latest Great Niece.

I have so many!

The other day, my nephew, he of startling intellect, his spelling is less than that of a 'Sun' writer, informed me he was coming on Sunday.  Now, Sunday I was taking off as I intended to go to Muswell Hill for a funeral.  However, as I have not seen him for five years, and he was bringing his baby I had to say yes!

So for two days I swept, scrubbed, dusted, moved things, and improved the look of the place.  I then attempted to buy things that may suit them.  Money flowed, and I was tired!  

Anyway, he came on Saturday night to the hotel round the corner, but I was not sure if he was there or elsewhere.  Anyway, I was knackered so ignored him.  Come Sunday I realise where he is and go get him.

There followed a day of delight with a cheerful 7 month old baby, a less cheerful mum, whom I have not met, and who looked bored all day.  There was little to connect us, and I did not meet her expectations I think.  Oh well, most people find this.  

However, I was tired, and walking towards the park, down the slope, I found carrying the babe, which I was determined to do, just too much for my old age.  My wizened fat body cannot deal with things like it used to.   Eventually they left, I scrubbed the pawmarks off the phone, the laptop, the everything else, returned the place to the usual mess, and sat eating all the fancy cakes I bought and they rejected.  

While it was not the happy time I hoped for it got one family visit for mum out of the way.  It enabled me to get my hands on a baby that looked cheerful and full of life and indeed was such.  She was determined to stand, refused to crawl, and is into everything.  In a few months time she will be uncontrollable!  Good job they live in Burnley.  He only came this way as he was dropping her brother off, in Kings Lynn!  Driving is no problem for him, he is used to it, and he thought this would be the only time I might see Nina as a babe, he is right, I could not get to Burnley at the moment.  Good on him!  

I loved having her around, took some poor pictures, fed her, bounced her around, stopped her flinging everything of the desk, and had a great time.  Next time I see her she will be at least a toddler of not more.  

So, that's four Nieces, all good looking and highly intelligent.  Two grown up Great Nieces, beautiful and intelligent, and one new highly active Great Niece.   One Nephew, one grown up Great Nephew, and one Toddler Great Nephew.  I think, there may be one or two more somewhere I missed.  Now I have met the youngest I am happy.  I have dandled them all, spent money on them, and now can die happy - but not yet, not yet!

I ought to have been in Muswell Hill today for the funeral of a long time friend.  This was to be an awkward journey.  I eventually worked out how to do this, Liverpool St to Kings Cross, Northern Line to East Finchley, or train to Alexander Palace, then a bus 134?, onwards.  Already you see I have made it more complicated.  All this to be there by 2:30 pm.

As I searched this out, spending a lot of cash on an 'Oyster Card,' not yet working out if my 'Pay as you go card' will allow me to cover as far as Zone 3, something at the back of my mind grew all the time that I would not be there.  It was a constant thought as I prepared, especially as this was one of my three closest friends.  

Then on the Friday my nephew's call made me realise why this was bouncing around my head.  The Good Lord knew this was going to happen, and after the exertions of the weekend I am glad to sit around at home, rather than struggle there and back for a 30 minute service.  However, I feel so guilty at letting her down.  This was a close friend, a real one.  I am not there, just sitting here acknowledging how I failed her, and I did that often.  I am glad however that her God has been looking after her, is at this moment listening to her only musical outlet, Bob Dylan, and seeking how to meet her demands for chocolate!  Her going might save me around a hundred pounds a year on that alone I say!  But my guilt remains, though if I had forced myself there I may as well have gone on to the crematorium, family only or not, and waited there anyway.  

There are less rude emails about now...

At Prayer (no details)

Mary L.

I was a wee bit stunned yesterday evening, to receive news of the death of a long time friend.  One of the three close friends I have.

Mary, seen here enjoying recently playing the Great Aunt with her new Great Nephew, has been a friend since first meeting her sometime in the 80's at the 'Grove' in London.  This at a time the church there was beginning to go through a great transformation.  

In time, several of us often met to pray, and mostly argue and give rude lip to one another.  Mary developed a talent for of prayer and hearing God speak to us.  Very important to us at the time.  For some reason she was impressed by Shakespeare and one Saturday afternoon when more important things called, she dragged me of to the Barbican to watch 'Henry V.'   We sat at the back, high up, and I spent a couple of hours with her moaning and grumbling because she wished to be at the front, joining in!  The 'Welsh' character at one point used the term 'Weasel Scot,' and this was heard quite often for the next 12 months!  It has been heard since of course.

Times change and we both moved away eventually.  Both retired in time, and for many reasons have not met up directly for 30 years.  Phone, email, and even Zoom have been used, and I feel guilty we did not use more of this in recent days.  The emails however, retained her grumbling and rudeness.  A rudeness I myself would never offer, honestly.

It transpires that last Sunday Mary suffered a serious stroke, and died on Thursday.  

I am stunned at the news.  I am at the age where the aged fall away, however, I did not expect this from Mary as yet.  At least now the Good Lord has her in his presence, the Jesus who died for her sins, rose for her justification, and called upon her to repent and follow him will now be rejoicing that she has truly come home.  How he will cope with her tongue is of course another matter.  I will have to get used to the silence.