A Word about Uncles and Aunts

Now when I talk about my family there is a risk of my coming over all HMS Pinafore –

“I am the monarch of the sea,
The ruler of the Queen's Navee,
Whose praise Great Britain loudly chants.”

“And we are his sisters, and his cousins, and his aunts!”

Okay so I have only the one sister, but throughout my near-on sixty years I have enjoyed the company and friendship of a splendid assortment of cousins, and some formidable aunts (and uncles, too). Sadly with the passing of Aunt Ruth last week (sometimes referred to as Great Aunt Chelmsford) my brothers and sister and I no longer have any aunts (or uncles) and one cannot but feel that some sort of intangible prop has been taken from our lives. Here are a few poorly phrased memories of some of those wonderful people.

My father was the youngest of six children – three girls, three boys. Of these one of his sisters (Freda) died young and his eldest brother, Leslie, went to New Zealand and I have no recollection of him. This left my Uncle John who was always regarded as the “senior member” of the family. He was a very successful businessman and impressed his nephew enormously with a taste for large, expensive cars (both British and American). In his later years we got to know him better and thoroughly approved his quick-witted incisiveness and the gourmet fare offered to his pet animals.

My Aunt Jane was closest in age to my Father and often surprised us by referring to Dad as “Timmy” – a pet nickname which only she ever used. Jane painted for a hobby and her “pheasants” were well known in the family. Then there was Auntie Dickie a marvellous personality who lived in an elegant flat in South Kensington surrounded by exquisite oriental antiques. Dickie was a constant and brave traveller, preferring to holiday in Skopje or Sarajevo than France or Spain. She would have been saddened by the death last month of the wrestler Jackie Pallo as she was occasionally to be found in the boxes of the Royal Albert Hall in the 1960s enjoying watching wrestling bouts with her friends.

My mother had two older sisters, both towering personalities. Mary (Great Aunt Haslemere or “Zia”) was the oldest and married Robert Lochner, the man credited with inventing Mulberry Harbour (in his bath). A sparkling personality with a keen sense of fun, Mary was elected a County Councillor for West Sussex, a post she held for many years, and was later made Deputy Lord Lieutenant of the county. My mother’s second sister Ruth, who died last week, was another commanding personality. The words that come to mind are “razor-sharp”, “hugely kind and generous”, “great sense of humour”. Bed-ridden for the last few years of her life, she was enormously brave and more than anything else “whole-hearted”. She will be sorely missed. They will all be sorely missed.