Haworth, West Yorkshire, Sunday 8th May, 2022
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| By my father and mother's grave. We brought him home and they are now reunited. |
Good morning everyone.
What an emotional and marvelous week it has been here in Yorkshire. Our programme has been jam packed since I wrote last week when there was so much to look forward to. I was determined to enjoy every moment of the programme which I had carefully prepared in advance. The first 4 days were to be quiet and slow paced to get ready for this week when I knew I would have to be on top form.
Last Sunday was a very English Sunday in many ways. I had a need to go to church, to Patrick Brontë's parish church here in Haworth. You see the last time I had been to a church in England with my father was there. I am not usually a church going person but attending a service in an Anglican church in the country I was born is something special for me and I had a calling to go that day. My husband went along with me although I think he did not understand the reasons I needed to go. Attending Sunday service took me back to my early life when I lived in England and whether I believe or not, it was part of the need to go back to my roots. The service did not disappoint even though I knew none of the hymns. What made them marvelous though was the accompaniment of a fabulous brass band. Just everything was perfect. The vicar was marvelous and during his sermon he said something that was a wonderful take away for me. He was talking about Easter and the Resurrection. He said this was a time of something new happening, that we should go along with it and that we would find our place. I wish I had remembered his exact words. It is exactly what was happening to me. After FT has gone, we are starting a new and wonderful chapter. It seems the bad patch is over and now we can enjoy life again. I have found my place again after being lost. Later the words from the lyrics of John Newton's beautiful hymn, Amazing Grace which Suzy sang at the burial, came to me: "I once was lost but now am found". That is how I have felt ever since I stepped on English ground. Can you understand me? There I was in the church which felt so right and fitting as did the words. I felt uplifted at the end and came out feeling so happy with the world. The new chapter had started with my return to England and bringing my father home. Only good things could come from this. From the moment I touched English soil all I had was good news and everything was falling into place and help was everywhere. When we left the church, another coincidence happened. A man came up to us asking "Are you the ones from Spain?" Obviously word had got around. It was none other than D. Pearson, the West Yorkshire Deputy Lieutenant who would be representing Her Majesty the Queen at my father's Memorial Service. What a wonderful man he is and I warmed to him immediately. He explained all the pomp they had planned which I had no idea about but would see with my own eyes on Friday. We even agreed to travel to the Cathedral together as he lives in Haworth.
My soul felt healed as I walked down the stone steps from the church to the square where my husband was waiting for me and as he still loves me so much he took photographs to treasure the moment like this one.
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| After the Sunday service in Haworth last week |
The next item on the programme of our very English Sunday was going to a pub; The Fleece which everyone had recommended to us. There we were to meet up with our dearest friends Kathy (from school) and Phil, her lovely husband who was a teacher of Spanish and Eladio's companion. We hadn't seen each other since before the Pandemic but had spoken on the phone regularly since then. Oh what a joyous reunion. I couldn't stop hugging my friend Kathy. We had prosecco which we are loving while they had beer or ale as it is more often called in Yorkshire. My friends had booked a table for lunch at the very popular Hawthorn restaurant/pub.
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| Lunch with our dear friends Phil and Kathy |
Thus our very English Sunday would be complete with a Sunday roast for lunch. What else does one eat on Sunday in England? That conjured up memories of Sunday lunches at home as a child. In my mind I could see my parents making the gravy and the Yorkshire "pud".
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| Lunch on Sunday at the Hawthorn in Haworth |
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| Sunday roast at The Hawthorn |
The most difficult thing was choosing between roast lamb or roast beef. In the end I went for the latter while my 3 companions went for the lamb. The meal was outstanding. Just look at my plate.There was no difficulty choosing the "pudding".For me it had to be one of my favourites; sticky toffee pudding; such a British dessert and only to be found here. No doubt I have put on quite a lot of weight during my stay here so far. All I can wear are leggings and loose dresses. Oh well, we are on holiday and anything is permitted while on holiday.
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| Sticky toffee pudding at The Hawthorn |
The problem when we have a hearty lunch including alcohol is that we are in desperate need of a nap afterwards. That is certainly Eladio's case as his eyes begin to shut. We drove back to our cottage with everyone shouting different instructions to my husband as to how to get here which was hilarious. It's under a mile but we never seem to find the right way hahaha.
We showed our friends our nice but humble and tiny abode and they both agreed it was tiny but nice. We like it but my goodness the second bedroom is like a box room. The cottage is fine for 2 but not for more. Our friends were tired too and shortly left. Maybe to add to our very English Sunday we should have gone on a walk but we felt lazy. Thus I put my pyjamas on and slumped on the sofa in front of the TV and promptly fell asleep until 9 pm. I think I was finally catching up on lost sleep. My husband gently woke me and said we should have some dinner. I was groggy and had a headache (from the prosecco) and needed time to wake up. In the end I just had fruit but couldn't resist one of Betty's little fondant cakes - they are delicious. That night we went to bed early and although I woke up a few times overall I slept well and woke up feeling rested.
It was Monday 2nd May, a bank holiday here and was our last day of being alone before the programme became jam packed. We decided on visiting Skipton where we would have our lunch - fish and chips at Bizzie Lizzies (where else?) and then go for a walk to Bolton Abbey, both important old haunts from my childhood. Once in Skipton we went to get food at M&S food (where else again?) next door to Bizzie Lizzies. We stocked up on prosecco, cider, fruit and good bread as well as my downfall; Battenberg cake (adore it) which we left in the car. It was a bit early for lunch so we ambled along High Street the main thoroughfare in Skipton which by the way is often called The Gateway to the Dales. Like Ilkley, it has made it to the top of the list of the best towns to live in England. It is beautiful and I always include it on my bucket list when in my beloved Yorkshire. There was a market and we got a nice plant as a birthday present for David Jones - my father's old pupil - who we would be meeting on Tuesday in Ruskington (more about that later). We enjoyed the atmosphere and looking in the enticing shops but only bought nappies from Boots for Juliet when she came and a notebook for me as I never have any paper to write on - you can't always use your phone.
Lunch at Bizzie Lizzies was good and we enjoyed a fair portion of England's most popular dish. This was my plate.
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| Fish and chips at Bizzie Lizzies in Skipton on Monday |
There were some delicious looking puddings on the menu but I had spied an ice cream van outside and as I am an ice cream addict that is where we headed after our meal. Here I am enjoying a cone with raspberry ripple ice cream - hadn't had that for a long time! Eladio caught me on camera.
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| Enjoying my ice cream in Skipton |
Seeing the ice cream van brought back childhood memories too. When the van would come round Heaton Grove with its jingle, I would ask my father for money to buy an ice lolly and being an ice cream addict too, he always gave me some.
From Skipton we drove to Bolton Abbey which is already part of the Yorkshire Dales. It was raining when we parked but that did not put me off. With a raincoat and umbrella we braced the weather and were fortunate it was just a short shower. I felt a rush of excitement as we walked through the hole in the stone wall which takes you into the Abbey grounds and the River Wharfe with its famous Stepping Stones built by the monks so many centuries ago - The Abbey was one of those destroyed by Henry VIII but even as a ruin it is still magnificent.
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| At the entrance to the Abbey grounds |
It is my favourite spot in Yorkshire and one of my favourite places in the world and a visit here is not complete without a trip to Bolton Abbey. As a child and young girl I would swim in the river even if it was winter and freezing cold. I did see kids paddling and if I had had a towel I may have done the same. What I wanted most of all was to cross the river on the Stepping Stone but damn it, some were missing so I could only go half way.
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| Feeling happy as a sandbag on the Stepping Stones at Bolton Abbey on Monday |
Thus we crossed the river over the wooden bridge where we had to have photos too.
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| Crossing the bridge |
The view on the other side is beautiful and I love it every time I see it. Let me share it with you so you can see why.
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| View of the abbey on the other side and the Stepping Stones |
We then walked through woods to the Pavilion where the path takes you to the Strid Woods but that was too far for one day. We stopped at the Pavilion and had a cup of tea and then walked back on the other side of the river across the fields and up the road where you get good views of the abbey too.
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| Above Bolton Abbey |
The visit to Bolton Abbey was a trip down memory lane to my childhood but also to our courtship. The first time Eladio visited England was at Christmas in 1980 and I took him to Bolton Abbey and remember taking lots of photos. We went back in the summer. At home in our bedroom there is a photo of me by the Abbey which Eladio had enlarged and framed. So you see, this place means a lot to both of us.
All in all we had a great day and were lucky once again with the weather. The drive "home" took just half an hour. Tuesday would be great too as Tuesday was the day I had planned for us to visit Ruskington. Ruskington is a little village in Lincolnshire, near Sleaford and Cranwell College (where my father taught) and where we lived from 1960 to 1964 before we moved to Bradford. I think I told you in my last post that I had written to the current owners of "our bungalow" on Rectory Road and that they were delighted for us to visit. Waiting there for us would be one of my father's most important "old boys", David J who lives in Lincolnshire and was keen for us to visit. So were we. I had only been back once since we left when I was only 7 and that was with Eladio and my parents probably in about 1982; so a very long time. I was keen to see the old house, the church, my maternal grandmother's grave and my old school if it still existed.
We aimed to leave early that morning as it is a long drive, 2.5h for just 130 or so miles but not all of it is motorway. We left a little later as the article in the Yorkshire Post with my father's story was published that day. Remember I told you about an interview with this most prestigious regional paper last week? I found a copy and bought two at a Co Op in Keighley and was so pleased to see the story had made it to page 3. This is it.
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| The article about my father in Tuesday's YP |
It was online a while later thanks to Caroline, the daughter of my school friend Geraldine. Caroline works for the paper and is always helping me bless her. The headline was quite something: "Charles Courtenay Lloyd: The incredible life of Yorkshire's war hero who married a Russian princess." Of course put like that it made him seem probably much more extraordinary than he really was. The sub heading was great too: "A war hero, intelligence officer, skilled linguist and school master, Charles Courtenay Lloyd lived a life of service to his country and to his beloved Yorkshire".
I was very pleased as you can imagine. On our way to Ruskington I received various emails from the Bradford local government. I was tickled pink to get this message: "Hi, I received a call from the County Chair of the Royal British Legion, Bill Mason, who will be attending the memorial service on Friday. He would like to know if you would like the County Standard Bearer (with the Standard) present also?" Not at all sure what a County Standard Bearer was, I said I was delighted. Well, I mean, the more pomp the better. Oh the Brits are so good at pomp aren't they?
We arrived outside our old house at around 11.30 and there were Graeme the owner and David my father's pupil who had just turned 73 that same day, waiting for us. It was such a warm welcome. We were ushered into our old bungalow. Yes there are lots of changes but the structure inside is the same. I recognised my room, my brother's room, my parent's room, the bathroom, the lounge with the fireplace, the study and the dining room. I also recognised the kitchen. The garden was not the same though as the owners after us sold part of the acre of land. We spent quite a bit of time inside our old house and it felt so good. Memories came rushing back. By then Caroline, Graeme's wife, had joined us and we had lots to talk about. We took photos too like the one of everyone outside our old house.
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| Outside our old house |
The owners told us the bungalow was built in 1922. Then Graeme went across the road to a neighbour. He told me had lived there for a long time and remembered us. It was a chap called Roger. I didn't remember him as I was very small but he remembered my parents well. He said I looked just like my mother. He told me tales I knew nothing about and that was marvelous.
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| With our neighbour Roger from years back in Ruskington |
We didn't want to overstay our welcome and besides it was getting late so at about 1.30 said our goodbyes. Caroline recommended the local garden centre cafe for our lunch. It came well recommended and the three of us had roast lamb with all the trimmings and a very English pudding each. Marvelous, just marvelous. Sorry, can't think of another word right now.
I had two more places to see before we left and they were my old school and the cemetery where my maternal grandmother is buried. We saw the school immediately. It is now a Youth Centre but the building is the same. I will always remember my first day there when we were given a slate and a piece of chalk to learn to read and write. Here I am 60 years later. Imagine the feeling?
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| Outside my first school - in Ruskington 60 years later. |
David found the cemetery easily using a map - not one for a sat nav. I remembered the entrance and then we had to find the grave. It was not difficult as we were looking for one with a Russian cross and we found it. This is it. By the way it is not built as it should be. The third cross (at the bottom) is slanted the wrong way round. I remember my mother being very upset about that but have no idea why she didn't remedy it. What is correct though is the Crucifixion cross in black at the top.
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| By my grandmother's grave in Ruskington |
Born in St Petersburg in 1886, she died in this village in 1961 when I was just 4 but I shall never forget as she came to live with us and died in our house. A Russian orthodox priest came from London specially and he prayed and chanted at her uncovered body lying in a coffin in the lounge all night and waving incense. I remember feeling very frightened. I wonder if anyone in Ruskington knows that a Russian princess is buried in the cemetery? She was born Sophie Stachovich and when she married my grandfather she became HSH Princess Lieven. Her genteel life ended with the Russian revolution when, pregnant with my mother, the family fled Russia in 1920. The rest is history I must write a book about my mother as I keep promising myself.
We left the village after that when really I would have liked to spend more time but it was getting late and the journey back would be another 2.5 hours on the road. We were home safe and sound by about 18.40. I was tired but very happy with our day. Ruskington, oh Ruskington, how wonderful to have been back. It meant the world to me.
Wednesday 4th came and I had another important date in my trip down memory lane, a reunion with friends from 50 years ago. There would be Amanda, my St. Josephs' College friend, her brother Simon who went to Bradford Grammar School and his BGS friends who became our friends too; Mark and his wife Sarah who we were meeting for the first time, Chris and Andy. Andy became Amanda's husband. There too was Simon's delightful wife, Gill. I had not seen Chris since Amanda's wedding in 2005 and as to Mark, the last time I saw him was when he was about 20, so 45 years ago. The three "old boys", Mark, Andy and Chris were all in my father's 4X form at BGS when they were about 11. Chris brought his school report written by my father in about 1967 and he had kept it all these years. In it my father praises him as a good scholar. So our reunion was to be very, very special. We were to meet for lunch at 12.30 at The Red Lion in the pretty village of Burnsall in the Yorkshire Dales. As teenagers we often went on day trips to the Dales but never had lunches in pubs, more like drinks and bags of crisps, hahahaha.
Before heading off to Burnsall we went to a garden centre in Harden to order flowers for my father's memorial events which I should not have left to the last minute but there were no problems. From the garden centre near Bingley we drove to Sainsbury's in Keighley to stock up for the girls' stay with us. Oh how I love British supermarkets. My favourites are Waitrose and M&S food but Sainsbury's is good enough. Here I am at the checkout on Wednesday.
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| At the check out at Sainsbury's in Keighley on Wednesday |
We left for Burnsall which is about a 45 minute drive and would take us past Bolton Abbey again. Last time we didn't have time to visit the Strid, that very narrow and dangerous part of the River Wharfe. We reached the main entrance nearly an hour before we had to be in Burnsall and on the spur of the moment stopped to take a walk down to the river for "old times' sake". Let me explain, it is apparently the most dangerous stretch of water in the world and my mother used to be terrified when we went. It's very narrow at certain points and people jump across it on rather slippery rocks. Lives have been taken there as there are pot holes and the water will suck you in. So it's beautiful to look at but you have to keep well away from the edge. My brother George used to jump across it which worried me but then we didn't dare tell my mother or she'd have a heart attack. Even so, I'm always drawn to it and as we had time on our hands it was the perfect moment. It's a short walk from the road through thick forest which is so beautiful I can't describe it. I read that the famous British painter Turner painted the Strid in 1808 - interesting. So if you haven't been, here are some pictures.
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| The beautiful but treacherous Strid, part of the River Wharfe |
Maybe you can appreciate it better in a video I took.
Video of the part of the Strid we visited on our way to Burnsall on Wednesday
Rain was threatening but didn't spoil our walk down to the Strid and we were well on time to get to Burnsall by 12.30. It's a pretty little village in Wharfedale where I have been often but I don't think I have ever eaten at the Red Lion. Just look what a charming pub it is. Well, nearly all the pubs are charming in the Dales I should add.
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| The Red Lion at Burnsall |
Even though we were there on the dot, the rest of our group had all arrived. What a raucous as we greeted each other, what a moment, what a wonderful reunion. As Mark later wrote: "An astounding afternoon Masha. As if a door shut all that time ago and then opened again the next day. The boys and girls were just the same! ". He couldn't have described it in a better way.
There we were again 50 years later. We had met in our teens and are now in our 60's yet nothing had changed in our relationship and banter. Mark, as usual, was a scream. The boys told me all sorts of tales of their behaviour in my father's class and I loved hearing every word.
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| Lunch at the Red Lion in Burnsall, oh what a marvelous reunion |
One "old boy" was missing; Bill - although he would be coming to the Memorial Service. Unfortunately neither Chris nor Mark could make it to that. We tried to ring Bill, because Mark said we should send him our "bill" - oh how we laughed. Bill later told me he was used to "Mark's antics". I have to say Mark is the one with the most personality and he was on strong form on Wednesday. He has worked in journalism all his life but I told him he could have made his living from being a stand up comedian; he is so funny.
By the end of our meal - great fish and chips and sticky toffee pudding again - the sun was out and we all went on a walk along the river at Burnsall. But first we had to have a group photo which a passerby was happy to take for us. Here we are 50 years later.
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| Our group reunion photo on Wednesday in Burnsall |
Chris had come from the south of England and it had taken him 6 hours by train to reach Skipton. He had to face another 6 hour journey back and had to be at Leeds by 6.30. Thus our beautiful reunion walk could not be very long. Soon we had to part and all swore it wouldn't be another 50 years until we meet again, as if that could be possible. Before we left we had to have more photos and the one I am going to share with you is my favourite; the old gang - Simon, Mark, Andy, Chris, Amanda and I. Notice how Amanda and I are laughing our heads off. Oh my.
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| 50 years later and still great friends. From left to right and from the back: Me, Andy, Chris and at the front from left to right, Simon, his sister Amanda and dear old Mark. |
The day was not over though. The sun was still out and it wasn't late. Eladio and I spied the road sign that said Grassington was 4 miles away. Thus we drove there for old times sake too. Grassington is one of the bigger Dales' villages and it is, by the way, the setting for the new version of a series I adore; "All creatures great and small".
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| Signpost in Burnsall |
It was a beautiful drive and soon we were in the Main Street of Grassington. The sun was out and Eladio suggested we have a tea or coffee in one of the lovely looking bars. We sat down in the sun and contemplated our surroundings. We got talking to a couple next to us who had retired there. He had been a policeman and I asked him if he had seen Line of Duty - hahahaha. He told me British TV detective series were disappointing for him as they were nowhere near the truth hahahaha.
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| Tea and coffee in the sun in Grassington |
We then walked around some of the pretty little streets and both commented Grassington would be a wonderful place to retire to; although because of damn Brexit that wouldn't be possible as my Spanish husband would not be allowed to live in the UK permanently.
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| My dear husband who is so good looking (am I biased?) in Grassington on Wednesday |
The visit to Grassington was the perfect end to the day. It was a very pleasant drive home past Skipton and we were in our little cottage by about 6.30. At 7, the owner, Mark, whom we hadn't met before, came round to set up the sofa bed for when the girls arrived. We got talking and it turns out he is a teacher at Bradford Grammar School, like my father was. What a small world!!!! He told me he saw my father's photo on the Common Room corridor every day. I later sent him the links to the articles in the T&A and the Yorkshire Post which his wife, Loretta, said were fascinating. He told us we were the first guests at their cottage. No wonder it is so spanking new and clean inside. We love it here except that it is rather too tiny for 4 and a baby; much more suitable for 2 people.
Later we had dinner, although we weren't hungry, but just because we enjoy our evening dinners at the cottage. Later I fell asleep watching a documentary about the 9 day Queen, Lady Jane Grey.
I woke up again at 5 something am UK time. The girls were by then at the airport. I prayed all would go well so they were here on time for the burial in Baildon on Thursday 5th May at 2 pm, the first of the memorial events for my father. It was to be a very emotional, long, tiring but happy day. The girls were up at 4 in the morning and all went well. They were with us by 12.10, on time for lunch together and to get to the cemetery by 2 pm. Here are my lovely daughters, husband and baby Juliet.None of this would have been the same without them.
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| The girls came and brought us joy |
We did make it to the cemetery on time and a sprinkling of people were there waiting. We weren't very many but oh my how important the people there were for me and for my family. Two of his old boys, one of his colleagues, his neighbour Susan and then of course Amanda and all her family, as well as dear Richard D, my mother's Leeds Uni colleague. Richard was instrumental in fulfilling my mother's life long ambition of publishing her father's poetry. There too was the gravedigger of course and also the Minister, the Dean of Bradford Cathedral. I was finally to meet "Paul". I left England in 1981 and find it funny to call a Minister by his first name. The whole thing was beautiful. You don't have to read it all but this was the order of service:
Graveside burial for C.
Courtenay Lloyd
2 pm, 5th
May 2022 at Charlestown Cemetery, Baildon
Order
of Service
Officiated by Revd. Canon Paul Maybury, Acting Dean of Bradford Cathedral.
You promised eternal life to those who believe.
Remember for good this your servant Courtenay
as we also remember him.
Bring all who rest in Christ
into the fullness of your kingdom
where sins have been forgiven
and death is no more.
Words from Psalm 139 to be read by Tony Kingham, former colleague and Master of Modern Languages at BGS 1968 - 2006
Where can I go then from your spirit?
Or where can I flee from your presence?
If I climb up to heaven, you are there;
if I make the grave my bed, you are there also.
If I take the wings of the morning
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,
Even there your hand shall lead me, your right hand hold me fast.
If I say, 'Surely the darkness will cover me
and the light around me turn to night,'
Even darkness is no darkness with you; the night is as clear as the day;
darkness and light to you are both alike.
Words of reflection by his daughter Masha
Musical interlude. His granddaughters Suzy and Oli to sing a duet in Spanish “A los árboles altos”
Blessing of the grave:
Though we are dust and ashes, God has prepared for those who love him a heavenly dwelling place. At his funeral, Courtenay was commended into the hands of almighty God. As we prepare to commit his remains to the earth, we entrust ourselves and all who love God to his loving care. O God, by whose mercy the faithful departed find rest bless this grave and send your holy Angel to watch over it.
As we bury here the remains of our
brother, deliver his soul from every bond of sin that he may rejoice in you
with your Saints for ever. Through Christ our Lord.
The placing of the urn into the grave by Courtenay’s family at the words “we now commit” during the following prayer.
We have entrusted our brother Courtenay to God's mercy, and we now commit his mortal remains to the ground: earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust: in sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life through our Lord Jesus Christ, who will transform our frail bodies that they may be conformed to his glorious body, who died, was buried, and rose again for us. To him be glory for ever. Amen
Upon the words “earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust”, earth/soil is thrown into the grave by the Minister.
After the placing of the urn and at the end of the prayer others can now place earth/soil into the grave
Musical interlude: To make you feel my love (Adele) solo by his granddaughter Suzy
Final prayer
Heavenly Father, we thank you for all those whom we love but see no longer. As we remember Courtenay in this place, and in our hearts, hold before us our beginning and our ending, the dust from which we come and the death to which we move, with a firm hope in your eternal love and purposes for us, in Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
Amazing Grace led by Suzy.
The cemetery is a beautiful resting place but what made it absolutely magical was the blossom falling from the trees. The service was inspiring and simple yet conducted with much love. The girls sang marvelously and I think my eulogy was fitting for the occasion. This is it:
Daddy,
after you died, I found this old envelope with a note from Mummy. It is stamped Cambridge November 1953, a month
before you married. This is what she wrote “My darling Courtenay. I just
want to tell you that there is no happier girl in the world than I and I love
you so much”. She carries on in
Russian to say” I love you. Everything will be fine and will remain so
forever”. You kept this envelope all your life which shows how much you loved her.
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| The note from Mummy written 1 month before his wedding and which he kept all his life. |
She was right. Everything was fine. Yours was a marriage as good as they get and you loved each other always. Today you will be reunited with Mummy, HSH Princess Elena Von Lieven whom you simply called “darling” or “dushka”.
So,
as was your wish, I have brought you home to be with her and to the country
where you were born, which you fought for so valiantly in WW2.
Today
my dearest father you are reunited not just with Mummy but everyone we lost; your
parents, your brother Raymond who died of polio aged just 16, your sister
Gloria who perished in an air crash in 1971 with all her family and, worst of
all, your own son George aged just 46 to cancer. That meant you only had me
left and I only had you left.
But
we were not alone when Mummy and George died. We had my own family to comfort
us; a family that became yours when you came to live with us in Madrid in 2005.
My husband, Eladio was like a son to you
and I love him for that. Your granddaughters, Suzy and Olivia, were your pride
and joy and I never saw you so happy as when your great grandchildren Elliot
and Juliet were born. I shall forever mourn you and Mummy because you were both
extraordinary parents; like none other. You were steadfast and always there for
me. I am privileged to have lived with you for the last 16 years of your life. As
you showed me, I shall carry on and try to enjoy every moment of my life. I
have my memories of you to help. I can always conjure up any one of the
happiest moments like when you walked me
down the aisle or when I showed you and Mummy our new born babies and so many
more treasured moments.
You
dying and going to join all those we lost, leaves just me as the last member of
the family you created. I think that is why you hung on so long and why I never
wanted to let you go. With a heavy heart
I let you go today to be with them and can only hope and pray that when our
time comes, we can join you too. Go in peace comforted that I am not alone that
I have my wonderful family always at my side. God bless you and thank you for
everything. Thank you too for your outstanding contribution to this country.
Everything was just as I had wanted it to be and I think my father would have been pleased. The most emotional moment was placing the urn of ashes into the grave where my mother lay. It was Olivia who did it. I had to hold back my tears of emotion. It was not a sad burial; rather poignant and full of love. Here are some photos to remember the day:
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| With Richard Davis |
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| The girls singing |
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| With John Asquith my father's overall top pupil in all his time at BGS |
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| Me reading - Tony Kingham on my the left who read the psalm. |
We had a final photo of the family gathered around the grave which I love. I have chosen it as this week's feature photo and that was not an easy task as there were so many to choose from.
It must have been 3.30 by then and we had to be at the Cathedral for the Memorial Service rehearsal by 5.30 which left us little time to go home to change and rest a little but again we made it. We arrived at the cathedral to beautiful sunshine. Suzy asked for a photo and I obliged. This whole week would not have been the same without our daughters. They had to be here and I am so glad they came. Bless you girls.
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| Suzy by the cathedral when we went for the rehearsal on Thursday evening |
Everyone who would have a part in the service was there; the Dean, the Music director, the photographer, the two old boys, my friend Amanda who would read Psalm 23 and of course my daughters. It was all very professional and much needed so that everything would be perfect for the Memorial Service the next day.
Then we had to rush to get to Bradford Grammar School for 7 pm for my father's memorial event which was a gathering for friends, "old boys", colleagues old and new and of course my family. The girls had never seen BGS and what a beautiful school it is, like Hogwarts in the Harry Potter stories.
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| BGS, the school where my father taught from 1964 to 1983. |
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| Signs everywhere at the school for my father's memorial event |
Again we were there just on time. The Headmaster, Simon H, and other guests were waiting outside this superb building and greeted us warmly. I could only imagine what this meant for some of these "old boys" who hadn't been back for many years. I asked Andy, Amanda's husband, what his feelings were and all he could say was how happy he had been at the school. I think it was a very emotional evening for him. It was for all of us. The reception was held in the DH room which was beautifully set out for us. I was told it was often used for "detention" (hahaha).
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| The BGS memorial event |
The school had gone all out. Simon even told me there had been lessons with some of the younger boys to tell them about my father's life. My heart was bursting with pride. We could have stayed there all night. Everyone wanted a tour of the school and to see the rogues' gallery (the photos of old Masters). I once performed in a play there as they needed girls from my school (St Josephs' College). I think I was Dulcinea in Don Quixote. Thus I had once been on stage of the famous Price Hall, the very heart of the school and which was dreaded a bit by the old boys as all their exams took place there.
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| The famous Price Hall |
Everyone who saw the school for the first time that day could only conclude that any child who attended it was indeed a privileged one. Our tour of the school ended at the Rogues' Gallery where the "mug shots" of all the important teachers from the past hang on the wall, next to the staff common room. It made me so proud to see my father's photo there although it is not one I like as he looks far too stern.
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| My father in the rogues' gallery as it is called at BGS |
Olivia took this one of me by his photo. It felt so poignant.
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| Next to my father's photo at BGS in the Common Room corridor. |
I think we could have stayed all night but we did not want to outstay our welcome. The plan was to go for a drink to the BGS "watering hole", the Black Swan, always called The Mucky Duck, by us. It was a shame but we were all too tired. Thus we parted but would see each other again at the Memorial Service.
On the drive home for which we didn't need the sat nav - I know the route to Keighley and Haworth from BGS backwards - we all reflected on what a beautiful day it had been. I was happy how everything had turned out after all my planning and grateful to everyone for going along with me. Yes, as someone said to me "I had pulled out all the stops for my father". This whole thing had snowballed and I couldn't have been happier. He deserves it all.
We were home happy and tired by about 10.30 and soon were settled in bed. I slept well that night, the night before the most important event, my father's Memorial Service at Bradford Catehdral. It was to be the culmination of everything I had planned with such love and I hope good organizational skills. It was to be a marvelous day; one to remember forever.
The Deputy Lord Lieutenant for West Yorkshire, who represents HM The Queen in the county, arrived promptly at 9 am as did the flowers. We set off to one of the most important days of our life; my lovely family united because of my father. That day my father reunited some very important people and he was honoured with the presence of the Royal Navy, The Royal British Legion, Bradford Grammar School, the Town Hall and even the NHS. Amazing.
We arrived to a reception we could hardly believe; friends and all those who wanted to honour my father with us. We felt so blessed.
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| Our arrival |
We were greeted by Simon the headmaster of Bradford Grammar School along with the current head boy and two prefects from the 6th form.
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| With the group from Bradford Grammar School yesterday |
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| Arrival - the Deputy Lord Lieutenant |
The service started promptly and could not have been more fitting for my dear father. When everyone was sitting, we were walked down the aisle by the Dean and followed by the rest of the procession. The service started promptly at 10 am and those who couldn't be there were able to watch it on You Tube as it was live streamed. This is the link if you want to watch - it has a bit of a slow start so fast forward a bit.
The congregation was not as big as I would have hoped but full of just the people I wanted to be there.
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| The congregation |
There were three clergymen there; the Dean, Barrie - my father's former pupil - and a chaplain from the Royal Navy. He would later read the RN prayer and the RN collect. That was so emotional.
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| 3 vicars for my father |
I had prepared the Order of Service with some help from some friends and I don't think it could have been more perfect; the music, the prayers, the tributes and the organ; just perfect and so fitting for my father. We had brought him back to the country where he was born and which he fought for so valiantly in WW2, we had brought him back to lay to rest with my mother and to the city of Bradford where he lived from 1964 to 2005.
The girls singing was spectacular and beautifully accompanied by Alex, the cathedral's Music Director who played the piano for them. They sang Ave Verum and Handel's Hallelujah and at the end Suzy sang with such love and emotion, Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah.
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| My beautiful girls singing who left the congregation speechless. |
The hymns were the perfect choice: Almighty Invisible God Only Wise and of course, Jerusalem, as well as the entry organ piece form Nimrod.
My dearest and oldest friend, Amanda, for whom my parents were like second parents to her read the Psalm (Psalm 23 The Lord's my shepherd) using the King James Bible version and she did it perfectly. What a wonderful friend I have. I never had a sister but she is like one to me.
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| Amanda reading Psalm 23 |
John Asquith, my father's former pupil and his top pupil in all his time at the school, was magnificent. If you watch the service, don't miss out on that part. Oh what a speech.
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| John Asquith - simply superb |
My speech I think was perfect too or so I was told. It was eloquent and full of love and emotion. As I walked up to face the congregation I passed my father's photos and kissed him. I loved reading it and felt so full of pride for who my father was; a remarkable man who never thought he was. You can read my tribute here if you haven't heard it.
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| During my heartfelt speech |
It was Suzy's closing song that most probably brought a tear to people's eyes, she sang it with such love and emotion.
Within one hour this perfect sendoff was over and we could relax and greet our guests over refreshments in the Cathedral. There was cake and biscuits but I didn't have a moment to eat or drink; I was busy greeting and thanking everyone. So were we all. Many beautiful photos were taken and you can see them on this link (Password Service). Great fun were the group photos of my father's old boys - 12 of them, ranging in all ages from those who left in 1966 to those who left in his final year, 1983. What a moment to see them all gathered there because they wanted to be at their old teacher's funeral, the teacher who had inspired them so much. I had to be in it too as many of them were my friends in the 70's and it was wonderful have them there: My father reunited so many people that day.
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| Me with my father's "old boys" |
One in particular I was keen to see and who I hadn't seen since I was in 6th form; Bill O. He was head boy in his time and we had lost contact. Marvelous to be reunited again.
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| Amazing to see Bill again |
Thankfully we remembered to have some family photos too and here we are by my father's photos and flowers with the Deputy Lord Lieutenant. I cherish all these photos.
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| Our official Memorial Service family photo |
No one wanted to leave, least the family and I and I think we stayed until about 12.30. We had planned to spend time in the city of Bradford but had left Juliet's pram behind. So we went home in a taxi and David Pearson came with us. Thus we were able to change into more comfortable clothing.
At about 1.30 we set off for Bradford again, destination The Kashmir. The Kashmir was, they say, the first curry house ever to open in England and my brother and I and friends often went there. Thus I had been going there for 50 years. It is the most authentic curry house I have ever been to and my family agreed. It has not changed much over the years.
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| Amazing lunch at The Kashmir yesterday |
From there we walked into the centre and it felt strange to be walking with my family in Bradford, the city of my youth which I know so well. I loved seeing The Alhambra, the Town Hall and the Wool Exchange.
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| In Bradford yesterday |
The old wool exchange where there used to be a flea market and antiques market my mother often frequented, is now a Waterstones Bookstore. My books were supposed to have arrived from my publisher for an in store signing event but damn them they were not there. They just had 3 copies which the store owner said they would put in prime position. Thus we agreed to do this at a later date. I hope it comes off.
We then walked along the familiar streets of the very centre and I could remember going with my mother to her bank (Barclays) for money and then clothes shopping, usually at C&A. We would have a coffee and a cake at the Akropolis cafe which no longer exists. Olivia wanted to go to the M&S. Well, so did I. It is no longer in Kirkgate but in a soulless new shopping centre - Broadway - where the beautiful train station Foster Square is or was. Oli bought clothes for the children, I bought a top and vests for Eladio and 2 nightdresses for me.
By 5 when everything was shutting and when life livens up in Spain, we walked back to the Kashmir in the rain to get our car. Suzy drove us home. We were all exhausted but happy with the day. Over a glass of Prosecco and some Betty's delicious fondant cakes, we watched the Service on You Tube. Marvelous that we could - my father probably couldn't fathom that his service could be viewed by anyone in the world.
No one was hungry except for Olivia - I suppose that is because she is breastfeeding. We all went to bed early happy with how the 3 wonderful memorial events for my father had gone. There was not one glitch and we had created some fabulous memories for all our lives.
Saturday came and it was ours for the taking. That day I wanted to show my family, the girls in particular, Yorkshire in all its glory. That morning we did something incredibly special. We were taken on a VIP trip on the Worth Valley Railway which goes from Haworth to Keighley and is an old restored steam train with carriages from the 40's and 50's. It is the setting of the 1970 and more recent update of The the film The Railway Children. Our host was none other than the Deputy Lord Lieutenant of West Yorkshire who lives in Haworth and is much involved with the railway. Mark, a friend, commented on the photos I posted: "It's like watching the Spanish Royal family on tour in Yorkshire"!! We received the famous Yorkshire hospitality which we appreciated so much. What a tour and what a morning. Here are some photos to remember this amazing experience.
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| At Haworth station |
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| Photos of our VIP journey on the Worth Valley Railway yesterday |
Eladio got the chance to sit in the steam engine and drive it. He looked like a child in a sweet shop. The whole morning was marvelous and the afternoon would be too.
I wanted to take my family, especially the girls, to the Yorkshire Dales where they had been but didn't remember as they were very small. My friend Kathy had booked us a table at the 16th century pub, the Craven Arms in the pretty village of Appletreewick which is about 50 minutes from Haworth. Suzy was our driver that day and she managed the very narrow roads of the Dales marvelously.
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| The Craven Arms in Appletreewick where we had lunch yesterday |
The place was busy being a Saturday and if we hadn't booked a table we would not have been served their fabulous pub food.
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| At the Craven Arms yesterday |
Eladio, Oli and I went for the steak and ale pie; a very Yorkshire dish. This was it and it was divine.
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| Wonderful pub food at the Craven Arms yesterday |
Later we were much in need of a walk. As Bolton Abbey is nearby I wanted to show the girls the Strid River as well as the Abbey and stepping stones. So off we went.
We drove to the Cavendish Pavilion where the Strid wood walk starts and takes about 30 minutes to reach that most famous stretch of water. The walk by the river with trees in bloom and bluebells everywhere was a sight for sore eyes and I was loving every minute of it.
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| On our walk yesterday in the Strid woods |
We were to see the Strid for the second time during our visit but for the girls it was their first time. I think they were suitably impressed.
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| Suzy at The Strid yesterday |
After the walk, it was still light and there was plenty of time, thus we drove a bit further up the road and parked in Bolton Abbey village. It would be our second visit this trip but I love it so much I told Eladio I could walk there every day of my life.
The stepping stones are always a lure and the girls loved them. We got a passersby to take a photo of the 5 of us. There I was in my favourite place in the world with my family and it felt good.
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| The highlight of yesterday, the 5 of us on the Stepping Stones at Bolton Abbey |
We then visited the Abbey, inspected the tombstones and wandered into the church which has been in use for 850 years.
The last item on yesterday's agenda was another visit to Sainsbury's. Oli hadn't been and was keen to look at children's clothing of which she bought lots. We had to replenish things like milk and bread for the rest of the stay.
We had wanted to get fish and chips for dinner but the local chippy we had been recommended shuts at 7 pm (too damn early) and thus decided to have dinner at home as we had plenty of food for a delicious cold dinner. Suzy did all the work including washing up and then we slumped on the sofas and watched the Memorial Service again. Eladio said I had prepared a funeral for a general. Well, not quite, but it was marvelous.
I slept beautifully last night - it must be the Yorkshire air. Today is the girls' last day but it will be a full one again and they will see more of my beloved Yorkshire. You will read all about it next Sunday.
Meanwhile, I wish you well, wherever you are.
God bless, Masha.
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