Death in family. Will be off duty for a week or so.

[PADDY]

My dearest Auntie Erith has just passed away unexpectedly yesterday (Saturday). I just got the phone call, and am still reeling from it, trying to make some sense of it.
She was married to my Uncle Joe who flew Halifaxes during the the war and worked for special forces on Crete (as many of you regulars will already know).
The news of her death is still sinking in and the weight of her loss lies very heavy on me right now, as the death of any loved one will, as many of you will sadly know.
To be honest, its hit me very hard, as I saw her only recently and spoke to her on the phone and there was no indication of this happening at all.
I need to take some time out right now, but I dare say that life here will quite happily continue as normal without Paddy at the tiller for a wee while.
Just to let you know ladies and gentlemen what's going on in my other world, if my absence was noted.
Speak to you all soon.

 

[Mycroft]

Sorry for the loss mate, best of luck on your trip.

 

[Biltmore Bob]

Condolences

Thoughts and prayers, Paddy.

 

[Mr. 'H']

I'm sorry to hear that Paddy, the two of you look very happy in the photo above.

 

[Angelicious]

My condolences Paddy. I hope things even out for you soon, and that the next few weeks go as smoothly as possible. Your Auntie looked like a very lovely person from the photo. My thoughts are with you and your family just now.

My apologies if she was teetotal, but here's one to send her on her way: :beer:

 

[scotrace]

Please accept my family's sympathy on your loss.

 

[K.D. Lightner]

My sympathy and prayers are with you, Paddy.

karol

 

[Lauren]

I'm sorry, Paddy. I'll be praying for you and your family.

 

[Andykev]

Sorry pal

So sorry mate. I have been there, and will be again. Let me know if you need anything. Prayers are with you.

 

[jamespowers]

I understand what you are going through and empathize completely. It will take time to get over the loss. Take as long as you need. We'll be here when you get back. My prayers are with you as well.

Regards,

J

 

[The Wolf]

I hope you know that you have a thousand prayers and much love coming to you from your friends at the Lounge.

Sincerely,
The Wolf

 

[Gray Ghost]

Sorry to hear of your loss. You and your family are in my prayers.

GG

 

[Nathan Flowers]

.

Sorry to hear this my friend. We will keep your family in prayer.

 

[Johnnysan]

Paddy,

You and yours are in my thoughts and prayers. Please accept my most sincere condolences for your loss.

- John

 

[gobler]

My thoughts and prayers go to you and your family.

Jeff

 

[optimofedora]

paddy and family

my heartfelt sympathy to you and your entire family on the death of your aunt and may god provide comfort to you.

 

[Uberneot]

Deepest sympathies, Paddy.

 

[flat-top]

Sorry for your loss, Paddy.
Sincerely,
flat-top

 

[PADDY]

Support is appreciated.

Ladies & gents. Just quickly wanted to share some things about my Auntie Erith. This letter (below) is being sent to the solicitor/lawyer to be read at the funeral. She was a lady conditioned by the 1930s and 40s, and her attitude to life has been conditioned by those times. I'm driving down to Cambrige (UK) now to sort out final arrangements. Thankyou so much for your kind words of support, as it's not the easiest of times right now.


Many who knew Erith in later life, as a rather dainty lady, involved in her flower arranging, would be quite surprised to learn that underneath that image lay the heart of a tom-boy.
As Erith grew up in a quiet village in 1930s Cheshire near Altricham, she was never happier than when she was splattered in mud kicking a football around with the other boys, long before anyone had heard of the Beckhams in that part of the world. Or she could be seen hitting a ball for six during a game of cricket in the local park. Erith would often say: "Well I had to just muck in, as the only other kids to play with were boys!There was no hanky-panky as such in those days, we all just got along together and played hard."

A spirited young girl, she took it upon herself to make the long bus journey (in those days) from her village to Altricham to visit her relations. For Erith at that early age, it was like a challenging journey through the desert. But unbeknown to her at the time, her father shadowed her secretly at a discreet distance to make sure that she came to no harm!
This early spirit of adventure as a child stood her in good stead for future travels across real deserts.

While Erith was at Manchester University, a smart young man in an RAF officer's uniform caught her eye, as he sat by himself in the college refectory, day after day. One day she plucked up the nerve to go and sit beside him. Erith said: "He was very quiet and withdrawn to begin with. Most of us students were bouncing around and enjoying our lives and at that time he found that attitude difficult to deal with. I only later found out that he had been through some awful times in German occuppied Crete and had lost friends in his bomber crew. He wasn't much older than us, yet he had been through so much. So I got to understand why he was sitting there so quietly."
Maybe Erith's developing skills as an undergraduate pharmacist had something to do with the special "chemistry" that was growing between them.
Erith and Joe grew much closer, as Erith watched him from the sidelines play soccer and they would play tennis together. As a token of their love, Joe gave Erith a little golden caterpillar that he had been awarded as a member of the exclusive 'Caterpiller Club,' for those airmen who managed to parachute out of their stricken aircraft during the war. She wore that little caterpiller proudly as a broach all her days. Erith got a job working as a pharmacist in the children's hospital in Manchester.
Then, just after the war's end, they married and the happy couple had a wonderful honeymoon in windswept north devon. Joe bought Erith a bracelet with a lucky charm. And each anniversary year she would add another charm to that bracelet, as a sign of their love and commitment.
Joe had been offered a permanent commission in the RAF and decided to stay in the services, forgoing his pre-war training to be an accountant. Erith would now follow where Joe was posted and her pharmacy training was often put to good use to help others through working at RAF bases. This caring spirit of helping others would continue throughout her life.
Erith was never one for hot weather, which maybe explains the honeymoon choice in North Devon! And whenever they could, they would go up to the cool windswept beaches of Bull Bay on Anglesay near to the North Welsh village Joe originated from.

So, when Joe got posted to a war torn Aden, it was typical of Erith to worry more about the weather climate, than the politcal climate! But with that bull-dog spirit that she had developed as a child, Erith went out to the deserts of Aden. She would tell me "It got stifingly hot out there. Oh, and one day even a few bullets hit the car when I was out driving. " It was typical of Erith to play down the bullets and highlight the weather!

As a little boy, I was in awe of my Uncle and Auntie, the things they had done and seen in their lives. They had artifacts that made the house look like a scene from the Arabian Nights! Whenever I stayed at Uncle Joes and Auntie Eriths, everything I looked at seemed to have a story behind it.
They were very sentimental about the things they surrounded themselves with. Everything had a deep personal meaningk, reason and importance to them.
Even one of their poodles, "Duffy," was named after an American air force officer whom they had befriended and bestowed the highest honour upon him by naming their beloved dog after him!
For a couple who had no children of their own, I felt so much at home staying with them. Memories of being picked up at Heathrow and driven up to Cambridgeshire and then being taken to town fairs and going on the 'big wheel,' with them or out for meals with friends, or drinks in the officer's mess, are all memories that made me feel part of their family.

I seem to keep referring to 'them,' but to me Uncle Joe and Auntie Erith were a package that was inseparable. And it must have been so devastating for Erith when Joe died. But, Erith was 'old school' where you have a stiff upper lipped public face and a private face. And her public face soldiered on bringing help and happiness to others through her involvement with the local RAF, her flower arranging and her volunteering at the nearby hospital.

She always, always placed a huge importance on her circle of close friends. Even as dementia started to limit her ability to recall things, the one thing inside her that she fought to recall, was the knowledge that she had the support and security of some very good friends immediately around her. To be called a friend by a lady like Erith, was a very special honour indeed.

Maybe I inherit some of my Auntie Erith's genes when it comes to keeping a stiff upper lip in public. She would giggle at me saying that. But deep inside me, behind the privacy of closed doors, I flounder to find the right words to describe how I feel. I am so utterly distraught and pained at your passing, Erith. Only you will know how close we were, I cherish your beautiful smile and warm hug as we said goodbye not so long ago, neither of us ever to know that it was a final parting. This world is so much a lesser place for your loss, dearest Auntie Erith.
I can only hope that there is some form of life beyond this one where we can all be together again.

 

[Flitcraft]

Sorry to hear of your loss.
Your absence will be missed- I think we've all come to rely upon your advice- especially regarding WWII military issues.