Sunday, 14 October 2012

Ursula Wolff, my mother


Just back from my mother’s funeral – she died on October 3rd – so am just recording some family memories put together for the occasion. Not my blogpost, really. 

Memories of Ursula Wolff

Her son Matthew 
Mum had very strong memories of her childhood in India and shared them with us often.  She often mentioned her first seven years in Lahore. Having a race with her father in the garden and being shocked that he didn't let her win! She remembers travelling by train, winding up through the hills to Simla or Srinagar where she would spend the summer with her mother and sister to escape the heat of Lahore.  Mum had exotic stories of travelling back on the ships from India to England via the Suez canal and stopping off in such places as Malta.  She had vivid memories of playing with a little friend on the upper deck and splashing around with hoses while the sailors, who played along, were trying to wash down the decks.

Mum spoke often of her wonderful aunts who looked after her while she was in England and her own parents were in India. She visited her Aunty Madeleine and Uncle Eulich (one of her father's sisters and her husband) in Muswell Hill every Sunday and became close to her cousins. She spent her holidays with her Auntie Trixie and Uncle Fred (her mother's sister and husband). After the war, she went to live with Auntie Cissie and Auntie Charlotte (two more of her father's sisters) in Lutterworth. It was in Lutterworth that she met our father.

The second world war of course had a big impact on our mother. An incredibly generous person, the war also taught my mother not to be wasteful, lessons which people are only now beginning to re-learn.

I'll remember Mum for so many wonderful things but especially her love and warmth.  She had lots of interests and enthusiasms including beautiful gardens, books, travelling to new places, spending time with people from other countries, looking after animals. She passed many, or even all, of these passions to her children, and to her grand-children to whom she was devoted.  

She had a great sense of humour, an infectious laugh and sparkly eyes.

I have fond memories of Mummy and Paula giggling together conspiratorially.

My friends remember Mum for her generosity and for treating them as if they were her own family. Her simnel cake is famous amongst them. Some have the recipe and have lovely memories of savouring her beautifully decorated and delicious simnel cakes. 

Her daughter Isabel 
a.  Her famously lavish hospitality when family and friends visited – the table groaning under the weight of her chocolate cakes, sandwiches, home made biscuits and brandy snaps, flans and her ‘incomparable’ chocolate mousse (Frances Mary mentioned this to me.)   She loved cooking – especially anything sweet.
b.  Her love of the Scilly Isles – a place that she and Paul discovered together, and that they were to visit again and again with their children and, later, grandchildren.
c.  Her infectious laugh.
c.  She adored having foreign exchange students in the house, from France, Germany, Austria, and Switzerland, and devoted herself to helping them learn English, making them practice their vocabulary and pronunciation again and again, and with Paul, she was energetic in showing these children as much of the UK as could be fitted into their stay – the Cotswolds, the Lake District, Lyme Regis, Devon and the Scillies. They all have warm memories of the generous interest she took in them.
d.  Her love of gardening – she was extremely well informed about the botanical names of plants, and she and Paul filled their walled garden at Rugby, and later at Canalside in Northwich with a blaze of ceanothus, cotoneasta, clematis, roses, phlox, lilies of the valley and many others.
e.  Her love of animals – she happily made room for dogs, cats, gerbils, stick insects, and, with slightly more reluctance, Rupert the Rat who Angela saved from vivisection.  It was a ‘pity’ she said, that it had a ‘rather revolting tail’.
f. One defining characteristic was a kind of (slightly innocent), girlish charm. 
g. Mummy had a lovely smile and was a very appreciative person.

Personal Qualities

a.  Mummy showed a lot of courage.  Born in Lahore, the eldest of 3 children, she was sent home to St Martin’s convent in Muswell Hill and there were long years when she didn’t see her parents, who were still in India, and unable to get a passage home because of the war.  Mummy went there at 7, in 1931, and only saw her parents again in 1936, then not until 1943 when her mother - we called her 'Nonna' - came back on her own. She saw her father again in 1946 so she hadn’t seen him for 10 years. She bore this with fortitude, never complaining in later life about it, simply saying that it was just ‘the way it was in those days.’  But her sadness at not having a family life with her mother, father and two younger siblings can be imagined.  However she spent happy holidays with her Auntie Madeleine, Uncle Fred and her cousins in Ealing, and later, when she left school, with two maiden Aunts in Lutterworth.  It was here, aged 17, that she went to work locally as a secretary at Power Jets, where Frank Whittle and his team had developed the jet engine, and were testing new fighter jets for the war.  One of the team of young engineers was Paul Wolff, just down from Cambridge, who had noticed Ursula’s blue eyes, her very pretty face, and her laughter.  So he plucked up the courage into her office and ask her if he could have a pencil from the stationary cupboard, which was her domain.  As this went very well, he then he asked her if she’d like to go to a concert with him at the de Montfort Hall in Leicester, and that, pretty much, was that.  They married in 1953, and moved to Rugby where they bought 75 Clifton Road, a house in which they brought up their four children, and which they were to own for fifty years.  At their fiftieth wedding anniversary in 2003, Paul said in his speech ‘Ursula was my first love, and is my only love.’  She had the blessings of a strong and happy marriage, and of having had four children.  She had to bear the great sadness of losing Simon, in 1995, and again showed courage and fortitude in this.  In their retired years she and Paul spent many happy times together going on holidays or trips to National Trust properties or gardening together or, best of all, spending time with their children and grandchildren.

b.  Very affectionate mother, endlessly interested in what her children, and grandchildren, were all doing – never happier than when we were with them.  Very welcoming to all her children’s friends.   She was a devoted daughter to her mother, Irene, and a wonderful daughter-in-law to Paul’s mother, Lucy, both of whom spent nearly every weekend at (my parents’ home in) Rugby.

Her daughters-in-law
- She had an eye for a good bargain and loved to share the results with everyone in the family. Useful household items (cake tins, handy-sized colanders, letter scales, purses) were distributed at regular intervals.
- Although she was home-loving and very family-centred, she definitely also had itchy feet! She loved going for drives in the countryside and calling in for a pub lunch somewhere (though she stuck religiously to lemonade)
- She adored sitting in the sun - anytime, anywhere - and was quite happy to wait outside on a bench in the sun whilst the rest of us wandered off and did other things. A picture of contentment.
- She loved the seaside and thought beachcombing great fun, especially looking for pretty shells
- She had a stock of family tales of past adventures and places visited. She'd start the tale off and get Paul to fill in the geographical and chronological details. A family ritual.
- She had firm favourites both in literature and film. Every Christmas (and many other times too) we would watch videos of Mr Bean and Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines. Cue shrieks of laughter from both grandma and grandchildren.
- Ursula loved playing with all her grandchildren.
Ursula tended to stock up on things. We have only just run out of cling-film from the cottage!  (5 years after it was cleared.) 
She was very good at throwing and catching and never dropped a tennis ball!

The grandchildren 
- She loved doing "Round and round the garden, like a teddy bear" when we were young
- She liked teaching us the names of flowers (on the Scillies)
- She had a great laugh
- She loved going out for pub lunches

My friends Lena and Ulf, who live in Sweden, wrote:  “We are very glad to have had the opportunities to meet Mrs. Wolff a couple of times. We liked her "British lady" style and her wits, humour and bright mind.Ulf remembers especially taking your parents on an outing to Öland, and when asking them how they found Öland, Mrs. Wolff answered with british "not-get-impressed" tone of voice: Well, I think it just looked like Siberia... Ulf just loved that comment. We also have very good memories of Mrs. Wolff from the years we met in Rugby. We also cherish Mrs. Wolff´s concern for us sending us a piece of your wedding cake as we were unable to attend the ceremony. We still keep that particular parcel in our fridge and it has even accompanied us when changing houses.”

I had nothing left to improve on this, save that she had a good sense of humour, loved jokes, and loved shopping – especially for bargains!

October 10th 2012

Sunday, 30 September 2012

Slipper sisters

Just visited my dear 'more than a sister friend' Ann.

Being together is like putting on a pair of comfortable slippers. We laughed as we wondered exactly what kind of slippers each of us was.

I wanted to be one of an elegant pair of mules: pale blue, with gold edging and ostrich feathers on top. Functional yet beautiful. Ann is even more like that - slim, elegant, shining with glory.

We make a good pair.

Being with another of my friends is definitely like putting on a pair of sheepskin slippers: no-nonsense ties at the front which fit the slipper securely to the foot. Warm, safe, solid. Reassuring. Comforting.

Another friendship is a pair of flip-flops - 'slippers' to Kenyans. Casual, bare-footed, ready to slip off at a second's notice to race together into adventure: on safari in the bush, discovering new tracks and pathways.

Yet another close relationship is almost like 'old person's slippers'; nothing fancy to look at, worn down a little at the heel, yet containing so much wisdom and experience, gladly shared.

And while serviceable shoes, sturdy, waterproof boots, pretty shoes and light-hearted sandals are all important: nothing feels as close to home as slippers. And slipper sisters.

And a PS from Ann:

"Now for those slippers. I think you got the wrong pair for me. Mine are well worn, frayed at the edges and hard to find; they are somewhere in my wardrobe and tend to sum me up. Yes I do need to come out of the closet. No Angela, you are not a mule, certainly not a blue depressed one. Your slippers are bursting forth with your curly wurly feet that are ready to dance and embrace the adventures that come your way. 

Thank you for being such a good and noble friend."


Whoohoo - love the 'noble' bit! But yes...maybe pink mules would be better...?

Sizzling September!

Well, not really, although the first weekend was as hot as midsummer, without a cloud in the sky. We whizzed off to Jersey for a couple of nights: our enormous tent, camping equipment - making sure we had REALLY comfy bedding, new beach chairs and dog all in our tiny Micra. Room to spare, too. Leaving picturesque St Peter Port behind, with its higgledepiggledy cluster of buildings which look like a pile of pastel-coloured liquorice sweets climbing up from sea,gives the feeling of embarking on a cruise. The calm crossing was a bonus. A quiet, almost empty campsite looking over to France; slow walks through lanes, exploring the architecture and history of our sister island; and a visit to old friends, made for a relaxing start to a hectic month. Sitting in Alan and Clare's garden over afternoon tea, catching up on how God has been working in our lives, was a real joy.

Then it was back into work, with a vengeance. We both had heavy schedules, fitting in meals with friends round long days and the odd evening commitment at school. The beginning of the school year is always a testing time: not just because we are all, children and teachers alike, reeling from the effect of full-time learning after full-time holiday, but also because there really is so much that needs to be put into place to establish the curriculum. Lots of planning, admin and creating of new displays.

Yet there was still time to fit in a monthly breakfast - which we ate sitting outside in warm sunshine at 9 in the morning in mid-September. So wonderful to catch up again - it had only been a month since our last meeting, but we had holidays, festivals and family celebrations to catch up on. Then there was another church get together with Annie Hughes, New Wine leader from Oxfordshire, who led us through Esther. 130 women from churches across the island took a day out of busy lives to spend time worshipping and listening to God - and, even, receive prayer: what a privilege.

The month finished with a four night sermon series on the book of Revelation - so informative and inspiring. A heavy subject eased by David Bracewell's entertaining style of delivery. Don't think I've ever managed to grasp the overview before.

Yet I am listening to the last in the series as I write, because I missed the last one: an emergency, mid-week trip to Manchester to see my mother, who is failing fast. My dear friend Ann met me at the airport and took me to see her: very frail now, she opened her eyes once or twice but didn’t even seem to register that I was there, let alone recognise me. I went back the next day and spent about three hours in her room, praying and smiling at her when she opened her eyes. I think she almost recognised me a couple of times – once, she smiled, pointed to herself and then to me, which I think was the same as when Cat and I saw her in August and she said, no longer recognising me by name even then: ‘You look like me’, and another time she spoke (most of the time I couldn’t understand what she was saying at all) and then, I THINK, said ‘you’re a special girl’!!

She seemed quite content and peaceful, is well looked after, and I did feel as if I’d done everything I could by the time I left. And my stay with Ann was an unexpected bonus, as we stayed up late and shared the deepest thoughts and feelings of our hearts. A friendship beyond words.
September. Busy. Joys. Sorrows. Family. Friendship.

Tuesday, 11 September 2012

August!

I sat down to recount August's exploits on 2nd September - the day after Cat left to go back to New Zealand - and found I could only write this instead...
August began slowly and then galloped when first Jonny, then Cat, came home for visits. We were blessed with Adele as well, and her parents for a brief visit, too.

C and J spent some time getting to know Pickle...



...and Mags arrived:
A trip to Rousse for coffee and a beach walk...


 Giant fennel!  Love it!
Fun in the kitchen...
 A visit to Vale Castle to see Oddsocks perform Julius Caesar...



Monday, 20 August 2012

feelings

people like me
do not wear our hearts on sleeves.
our feelings are buried deep within.

we do not fuss or shout
or crave attention.
our feelings are buried deep within.

we endure quietly
stolidly ploughing life's furrows.
holding on with patient determination.

that does not mean
we like to be ignored.
we too  appreciate kindness.

acts of love sink deep.
are held in those quiet places
deep within.

Thursday, 9 August 2012

July


A mixed emotions month – but then, isn’t every month like that?

The first week of July was the last week of school... packed with prizegiving evening, school concert and a lot of tidying, clearing out and packing up. Fortunately, the latter was really easy – I have had an AMAZING class this year who are capable, helpful, sensible, efficient, well-organized, co-operative and wonderfully eager to do anything they are asked. Getting the classroom sorted was surprisingly fun.

Prizegiving, on the other hand...oh, every year it is the same. The delight on a child’s face when the prize is announced; the pleasure from other children when they see their friend sit down, proudly clutching a prize; the disappointment which hangs in the air when all is over and the MAJORITY of the children go home with nothing.  Yes, I know we can’t all win prizes and most of the teachers try to spread them around all the deserving children, rather than awarding several prizes to one child: often, there are several contenders for the same award. Yet perhaps there should be a policy that every child who is leaving is recognized for at least one achievement...? There are many arguments for and against this tradition, but the lesson that ‘not everyone is necessarily a winner’ is a hard one to learn and perhaps needs to be taught in a different way, i.e. that ‘everyone is a winner at SOMETHING’.  We encourage children to explore and develop their talents and gifts – so perhaps we should continue to develop this across every aspect of school life.

I could carry on ranting about this for a long time. On to happier things.

End of term finished very happily. So satisfying, as a teacher, to know that children have benefited from being with me: when I see huge progress in communicating, as children who were hesitant about speaking, reading or writing have gained confidence. Sometimes, I can almost see them grow physically as their self-belief blossoms. I know they would have made progress with anyone, really, but I love looking back to the beginning of the year and seeing the strides they have made...

Once term ended it was catch-up time – with cleaning, with chores left undone, with unlimited reading, with friends and even school-work!  The weather wasn’t great the first couple of weeks so I was happy to put in the hours on my computer and start preparing for next term. I know by the time I get to the end of August that I will have ‘wound down’ big time and it is always a huge effort to start The Teaching Machine going again.

So, all caught up for the end of the month when my dear friends arrived for their annual visit – and the weather turned wonderful.  July weather at last.

(I haven't mentioned the Olympics. The Olympic Torch flew in to Guernsey - great excitement. As for the games,,, I'm glad, in a way, that we don't have television - I wouldn't have made it outside into the garden for a fortnight, though I have sussed out how to watch on iplayer while sitting comfortably on the lawn...)

Friday, 27 July 2012

A quiet joy...

Our yearly reunion came round again, eventually. It always seems both long - and short - since we last met up. Words are not enough for our relationship.  It feels like family. It feels like best friends. It feels as if, sometimes, these friends know me better than I know myself. Safe. Loving. Accepting. Joyous. Peaceful. Enough.
Ann, Cath, myself, Mary - barbecue supper...

...and fruity al fresco breakfast.

The Church of Christ the Healer - with God, all things are possible.
Meeting up again
just a year ago
we walked together, laughed together,
celebrated
a friendship endured
across years
across countries
across continents.
These friends 
who know and are known.
Truth tellers.
Masks off, souls bared. No pretence.
Women who ask real questions,
listening to unspoken yearnings, doubts, loves.
Questions answered in honesty
to know and be known.
There is no sense of urgency.

We live in the moment, THIS moment. 
Gazing back at shared experiences, looking forward 
to an unknown future, 
LIVING, together, in this moment.
Finding healing together.
After they left, I felt bereft, momentarily
until the gap closed
and normal life resumed once more.