Sunday March 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Mothering Sunday / St Patrick's Day

Archie (left).

Someone in the pub said that Mother's Day is a ghastly American import, but of course this is not so. It's an ancient religious thing. Mum remembers taking bunches of violets home from church for her mother back in the 40s. I must look it up in Brewer's. A shocking day really. Mum was really low. They (the family) all appeared against our advice, and it proved too much for her. She stayed abed and bunches of people kept drifting in and out. Catherine couldn't understand why 'Granny' was crying and John (Snr) came away pale and upset. Mum had wept before him saying she didn't want to die. My God it's all so awful. Lynn came en route to the Bakers where they were going for Sunday tea. ________.

Our evening off. A sumptuous dinner. Poor Mum prodded a Yorkshire pudding but didn't eat. It was all wrenching. I was in bed at midnight when Jim Precious phoned to say that Archie had collapsed and died outside the Station at 11pm after a pool knock-out. What a terrible shock.

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