Monday May 20, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

A gloomy morning. I wanted to see Dad and time seems to have dragged since that fateful hour on Saturday. Dad phoned me early before leaving for Settle to say he had spent a sleepless night pacing the rooms at Waltergarth. He was eating chocolate biscuits and drinking coffee at 6:30am and then he had slept heavily until he was woken by Jack Denison on the phone at 9:30. Uncle John in Lanzarote had phoned Uncle Arnold with the news, and the latter insisted on seeing Dad today. 

Auntie Mabel phoned and said she would bake two dozen scones for Lynn's after the funeral gathering. Ally told her that Mum had specifically requested 'no bun fight' and that after the funeral only Dad and his children would return to Lynn's. No wake. No boiled ham tea. Nothing. Mabel will be put out because this goes very much against tradition. However, Mum's wishes are to be obeyed. _______.

Dad met Arnold and together they went to record Mum's passing. He bought an extra copy for my records.

Tonight Gary worked. He arrived late at 8:30. Jack Denison phoned here (he wanted to talk to Dad). Ally asked him if I could have a lock of Mum's hair. He said yes, but Dad's permission is required. It may seem morbid, but Mum always took locks of our hair when we were children, and so I'm only getting my own back.

Pool match sandwiches.

-=-

Sunday May 19, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Sunday after Ascension

We had bacon and eggs and cried at the breakfast table. It has hit Ally this morning. Here we are waking up to a new day, but Mum isn't. Sue took Dad back to Horton this lunchtime. We visited Auntie Mabel and Auntie Hilda. Mabel was entertaining Connie. Hilda was alone. Phoned Dad at 6:30. He has an appointment to register Mum's death at Settle tomorrow and is meeting his brother Arnold at the Royal Oak. He is phoning the vicar (Barnes) tomorrow at 7pm and wanted some suggestions for hymns. At their wedding they had the 23rd Psalm (Crimond) and 'O Perfect Love'. Let's sing these again, says I.

-=-

Saturday May 18, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We arrived at Horton at 10:30. Mum was lying flat and breathing heavily. Her eyes have gone and cannot focus. I touched her hand - ice cold. Dad looked at me. "She cannot go on much longer". Dad didn't leave her side. I kept leaving the room to blubber. He says the most touching things to her. ______. The last thing he said to her was: "We are going to do it all again one day, aren't we lass". I went outside and sat on the wall looking up at Pen-y-ghent and the sheep. Ally out walking with Sam in his pushchair came back as John and Janette were driving through the village. They went straight in to see her. John holding her hand and with a look of despair. I went back outside, Then, just before 1pm I saw Dad signal for me to go back inside. Ally passed Samuel to Frances, the neighbour. With Dad holding her hand and John, Janette, Ally and me sitting on the bed Mum died at 1pm exactly. I closed her eyes. We drank tea as if it was a normal thing to do, phoned Dr Brewster. He came in and pulled a sheet over her face. When he walked out I uncovered her face. Frances looked after Samuel for the afternoon. I didn't even notice he was gone.

(Large mournful redaction).

At 8;30-9 o'clock Jack Denison, the funeral director, came from Guiseley and took Mum to the chapel of rest on Otley Rd, Guiseley. We followed to Susan's. John and Janette taking Dad. We sat until 11:30. Samuel slept in Sue & Pete's bed. We took him home to Leeds, saying goodnight to Mum as we drove past Denison's. 

Lynn  spent the evening in Otley hospital with Tom. Strange as it may seem, I slept.

-=-

Friday May 17, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

We went back to (see) Mum. This time just Ally, Sam and I. It was a lovely, sunny day. We stopped off in Settle to look at the shops and eat fish and chips on a park bench. Samuel enjoyed this. He is very good. I think he would like having a dog. 

We arrived at Waltergarth after 12 . The (Macmillan) nurse was with Mum who was sitting propped up and looking lifeless and hideous. Black haunting eyes. I wept on a bench in the garden. Dad now says that she will go at any moment. The neighbour Frances said this morning that she found Dad hanging out his washing and sobbing like a baby. I had some bread and cheese and went to hold Mum's hand. So weak, and unable to drink. She has had a horrible, rasping cough since 8am. She appears to be distressed by any noise. We left at tea time and came back to Leeds. 

A nightmare of an evening. I feel ill, throbbing headache. Some gypsies in the tap room gave me a bit of bother.

Lynn, David, Hilda and Tony went to see Mum this evening. Every time the telephone rang I leapt with fright, but nothing happened in the night. We are going back to Horton tomorrow.

-=-

Thursday May 16, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Ascension Day

Ally went out picking flowers with Sam. Donna Lea appeared with a briefcase to address the dwindling sales and the crisis facing us and the Moorhouse should the trend continue. She was so very sympathetic about Mum and says the brewery will do anything to help. She lost her Papa aged 45. "Buy a piano", she says. Otherwise, drivel. You know what area managers are like. 

Phoned Dad tonight. He was in a bad way. Weeping, &c. Mum isn't drinking water now either, and so it's just a matter of time. He was so desolate. I flapped about this and phoned John, Janette and Susie. I decide to go back to Horton tomorrow, but Sue says she will go on Sunday. I advised her that Sunday might be too late. I walked back from the call box in a dream. It is all so very hard to believe. Can it really be my jolly, zestful mother we are talking about? Ally looked at me as I walked into the bar, and from the look on her face it was obvious that she thought I had ghastly news. We are under a lot of strain.

-=-

Wednesday May 15, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

To Horton-in-Ribblesdale with Sue, Christopher and Benjamin. Rain. We found Mum greatly deteriorated. She now cannot eat or swallow any of her pills, and takes sips of drink from a baby cup. She looked at Ally as she sipped, and said: "Just look at the state I'm in ...". Sue provided a liver casserole for the kids, and both Dad and I had a bowl. Later, Dad and Ally took the children out into the village for a walk. Spitting rain. I sat holding Mum's hand, Sue in a chair looking uncomfortable. She doesn't like the long silences. When Mum speaks it is weak and distorted. Obviously distressed and fed up with living. Dad says the end is near. We drove away later and saw Mum raise her weak, thin arm as an act of goodbye. Dad stood next to the apple tree blinking back tears. Night off. Thank God.

-=-

Tuesday May 14, 1985

 Moorhouse Inn

Phoned Susie and suggested that she might join us on a visit to Horton tomorrow. She was very pleased. The horrible weather is driving her and the kids scatty (sic). It will be a dawn attack on Ribblesdale. Poor Sue believes in nothing in the hereafter, and once we are gone that is it. She finds Mum's suffering too painful to discuss. She also firmly believes in the idea of euthanasia and she has an agreement with Peter that should she ever find herself in a position similar to Mum that he will do something to put her out of her misery. I cannot condone this. Any life must be better than death, surely? I suppose that is easy for me to say, as I am fit and well. _______ (redaction) _______ Mum is to be cheated of her old age and I am so very bitter and twisted about it.

-=-