Of Her Generation

(Trying to respond to my mother’s death

Mum. Perhaps curiously, a lady without a nickname.

How do you sum up a life lived over 90-plus years?

She was someone of her generation – in terms of what she expected from life and how life treated her.

She was a Londoner born in the 30s, a war-time evacuee, a wife and mother thrice-over.

Outside the home, she was someone who supported others. For years she was an able and valued assistant at local GPs and primary schools.

And for all her life, she was someone who was quietly, gently humorous and witty to boot.

Yes, she was all of those things and more besides. She was a success by any sensible measure. I could go on but you don’t have to believe me. The kindness strangers showed to her when she needed it, when her body and mind failed and faded, is a clearly-told story.

Me? What would I say? If I had to pick just two words to sum up how she was for all her years, I’d pick unruffled and I’d pick reliable. Because whatever came along in life, she would rise to the occasion without fuss. And whatever she was called upon to do in life, you could be sure she’d do it.

To go through life both unruffled and reliable is a rare achievement. The world would be a far better place if there were more people like her.