My Godmother Dorothy Moore was buried yesterday. Twelve people attended here funeral. It was 280 miles away - 5 hours. I didn't go. She was 92. I had not seen here for several years and indeed my Godfather had asked that I did not go to see them. I think he thought they had reached a state he did not want me to see them in, and he had his pride. With sadness I honoured that request. Phone calls were then never responded to.
Dorothy and Edgar Moore were wonderful to me, they would look after me when my mum and dad were teaching at the ice rink. I would play with their Yorkshire Terrier Cindy. I would pull her out by her whiskers from under the sideboard (I was six) and once they could not find the poor pooch who was in one of the drawers! She never retaliated but perhaps was relieved when I left at the end of a 'baby sitting' session? Fish fingers and tomato sauce were my staple diet and I always felt safe and loved with them.
Dorothy and Edgar had a daughter Margaret whom my parents taught in ice dancing. Margaret tragically died at around 35.
I'm sad I didn't go to the funeral but I imagine Dorothy would have said - "No no you get on with your life." I remember she had once listened to me across their kitchen table as I explained - at age 40 something that I thought there was no one for me in the world - by way of a girl to be with for life. "There will be someone.' she confidently asserted. In a kind of spit-spot Margaret Thatcher warm and confident way. My - she was right.
They were a wonderful Northern couple to me, never knocking people - even Robert Maxwell who stole their pension and gave them hardship. Edgar was a newspaperman - a printer, Dorothy in her later years before her illness helped Marie Curie Cancer greatly cheering up people young and old.
Edgar was proud that he was driving up until his mid eighties and was never one to complain. Although he did give me some gip for my marks on Strictly Ice Dancing when it came on.
I remember them fondly.
Perhaps that's what today I wrote two verses - one about D - Day and one about our Capital Gains Tax which will affect pensions and how I sensed a 'Spirit of Fear' being propogated in the newspapers. Whatever it is - or because it's a Friday - I thought I would share them.
I NEVER WILL FORGET
I was a happy wanderer
Upon untroubled seas
When I heard the call
The radio beseeched
Men are stranded
On a foreign beach
Lives were being lost
We had to help them
Whatever the cost
We hoisted our mainsail
Engines full ahead
Sailed the murky depths
Going where they’d said
Guns roared above us
Smoke filled the air
Thousands in the water
Singing, saying prayers
We took aboard
The nearest men
All that we could hold
Then we promised
To come back
Four journeys later
Two hundred souls
Back to fight again
Some to fill the honour rolls
And I never will forget
Their dark faces as we’d go
Hoping we’d come back again
Hoping they’d get home
And I never will forget
The sound of the guns
And the calmness all about us
As mothers lost their sons
© Copyright 2010 N M Slater
Friday, 28 May 2010
SPIRIT OF FEAR
CH: Times they are a changing
Spirit of Fear
Money I once had
Disappeared (Rpt)
V1: I’m afraid
What will we do
Worked a lifetime
You’ve loved me through
I’ve tried to do what’s right
Sometimes - you know - it’s been a fight
Now how to pay our way
Work till you drop they say
V2: Pensions gone
Funds went down
Confidence crashing
All around
How will we make it through
How will others make it too
Time to leave grieve
What to do
V3: I heard about
A man who died
He’d a big house, fancy car
But no one heard his cries
A fire with his family
Verdict
Suicide
V4: Why save at all
Changing rules
Companies fail
Bonuses fools
Dog eat dog
Fighting abused
It’s tough for me now
It’s tough for you
© Copyright 2010 Nicky Slater
Friday, 28 May 2010