30 September 2016, Richmond, England, UK
Memory, memories.
It is a weekend morning in the 1960s. We are expected at our cousins, the Peberdys, in Tulse Hill.
Mum's task is, not only to prepare herself for the day, but to also ensure that we boys at least leave home looking 'presentable'.
We three are assembled in the hall - Dad is upstairs, somewhere.
Having applied and checked her lipstick etc, Mum turns her attention to Colin and I. Shoes are inspected, hair brushed, and ties straightened.
We pass muster, Mum checks her watch. Then she calls up the stairs "Fred, are you ready?" It appears not. He might have been answering a 'call of nature'. On the other hand it was quite possible that he was smoking a cigarette while reading a book.
"Fred, what are you doing up there? We'll be late!"
Mum's frustrated and concerned face turns to us; she declares angrily, "Your father will be late for his own funeral!"
Having reached almost 95 years of age, you could say that she was right!
Well done Dad.
Well done Mum.
Frederick Sidney Lines 1921-2016