As a matter of self-discipline I have for some years now tried my best to post to this journal at least once a week. Eagle-eyed observers will have noticed that I have – of late – fallen down on the job somewhat.
On this occasion there is good reason for such lacklustre performance. I hope that the gentle reader will indulge me if I meander around the houses a little by way of explanation…
Back in the dim and distant past – on March 7th 2014 to be precise – I posted to this forum a missive entitled ‘The Music of Time‘. As is my habit that post too danced around its true topic for a while, before heading for the home plate. The subjects of this creed were a pair of engagements on consecutive days in March 2014 with which The Girl and I had been involved. Remember that we were yet living in the UK at that juncture – and neither of us had reached the point of retiring (for the first time!). The key element of that posting ran as follows:
“The first of the weekend’s events was the memorial service for a very long-standing acquaintance – my oldest-friend’s wife’s father – whom I have known for more than four decades. He was, of course, of my parents’ generation – of whom in our circle only a very few now remain. He enjoyed a good life and the occasion was very much a celebration thereof rather than being overly solemn. None the less, such acts of remembrance always invite a degree of introspection regarding the transience of our existence – this one being no exception”.
A dozen and more years have passed since that gathering and you will doubtless be unsurprised to hear that of those of my parents’ generation who were closely connected to us in the UK – by familial bonds or by mutual friendship – there are now none left alive. Little less surprising will be the fact that on this side of the pond – with a few exceptions – the same applies (The Girl is four years younger than I!).
Sadly there is now one less. Last week The Girl’s step mother passed away in Nanaimo here on Vancouver Island. This wonderful woman – at the age of 89 and having endured years of chronic pain – checked herself into hospital on a premonition that her time was approaching.
I met this splendidly independent and indomitable woman (who would think nothing of disappearing into the desert on her own for weeks at a time) when The Girl first brought me to Canada in 2006. She and the Girl’s father then lived in Nanaimo, but they had previously lived on Gabriola island (when not voyaging to Desolation Sound and beyond on one of their boats – ‘The Kindred Spirit’ or ‘Halcyon II’). The Girl and her step mother had a great deal in common and they were very close.
The Girl being the sole executor of her step mother’s estate we are now having to spend much time in Nanaimo, sorting out the issues of the estate. For her this we are happy to do.
Rest in Peace – Alice June Dawson.
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