My memories of our Aunty Alison (AA) begin in there with all my other earliest memories – snap shots of sensations, of being around her and hearing her - this is no surprise as she was a constant in our lives from when we were born.
As I grew older, my memories of AA become clearer and I remember swinging in the hanging basket chair (so cool) in her bedroom in the house that her and dad grew up in, in Caiystane Gardens, and always wanting one for myself – even now whenever I encounter one of these chairs, I think of her and remind myself to find a place for one in my life. I also remember being less content when Helen got to go and see King Kong and I didn’t – affronted at the idea that I was somehow too young! I’m not sure when this was, or when AA moved to Panmure Place with Pete, but I remember so well looking forward to dinners with them in our visits to their flat – excited not only because we got to see them, but there was always the promise of good food, spaghetti bolognaise was the ultimate favourite, made all the more so tasty with the addition of never before heard of ‘Parmesan Cheese’ My adult life of tenement living has certainly been inspired by these visits, and I am always aspiring to Panmure Place!
After one such visit, when William was a baby (so, early 1980 perhaps) I remember us leaving the flat and AA slipping on the worn tenement steps whilst carrying William’s glass baby feeding bottle – she got a really nasty cut – through a tendon in her hand, and a contraption afterwards which she delighted in showing and explaining to us– a sort of rubber band, safety pin thing that allowed the retraining of the finger, which had been so seriously damaged by the fall. While I’m writing about this, I am remembering that, maybe round about the same time, she gave us one of her old biology books, which included a photograph of a sneeze and her explaining to me what was going on. I really loved that book. Always so clever and knowledgeable and happy to share.
I also remember being in the attic, again at Caiystane Gardens, and playing with her ice-skates and on one occasion being given her old red vanity case and ballet pointes – although, I don’t think I was ever half the dancer that she was, but I tried! In later years, I happily took ownership of old tapes (including Tapestry by Carole King – now, a firm favourite)
As I became older still, my memories of AA are an absolute constant, always there and always present. The never, ever missed birthday and Christmas cards with her beautiful handwriting, which grew in who they were from and who they were to, to include Andrew and Stephen and Meredith, and in my direction, Chris, Rudy and Alice. And then with social media, sharing photos and stories, even not seeing her in person, knowing that she was there with a ‘like’ and a comment.
There is so much more to say and it’s hard to sum up easily. I miss her and will alway miss her. We are so privileged to have had her in our lives and I am so very grateful for her wisdom and support, and her approach to life is something that I aspire to. Recently, I made a post on Instagram about my grandmothers (who co-incidentally both passed away on the same date, different years) and I wrote about how someone had once told me that when I was finding things hard, I should take a few moments to imagine my line of women, holding me up, a chain of strength. I said that there at the front were my grandmothers Alice and Effie. Aunty Alison commented that the sentiment was wonderful, and that it was sage advice. Now she is there too and I, we, will always have her with us. And she had the most magic laugh.