16.9.16


PATRICIA
MY LOVE, MY LIFE

I had not contemplated writing in this way for some considerable time, and it is painful to recollect how, even relatively, the totally unexpected events of the past year have arrived, and are now already receding into the past.

Pat and I have been very close soul-mates since late 1959, when we became aware of each other in the close-knit youthful community of a typical country town, Cheltenham. Rock and Roll was at the height of its popularity, but Big-Band music still had a magnetic attraction, particularly as the great musicians Joe Loss and Ted Heath and others regularly hosted the Friday night dance at the local Town Hall.

These were the days when fashion was of great importance in our particular circle, and Pat was a remarkable trend-setter with an innate fashion sense, which had been honed at the County Clothes fashion house (it wasn’t just a shop!) situated in Cheltenham Promenade, where she worked for several years. I had noticed her dressing the window displays with the latest Chanel and Yves St Laurent creations, and also that at the weekly Town Hall dance, she invariably was turned out impeccably with immaculately coiffured hair and a new, highly flattering, dress. Very soon, my interest was reciprocated, and we became an inseparable couple, a relationship which led to our engagement in 1961, and our marriage in 1962. These days, 56 years is an uncommon length of time for a relationship to last, let alone flourish, but last ours did, and spiritually will continue to do so.

Before we met, Pat had lived in Ossett, Yorkshire, but her family moved to Cheltenham at around the end of WWII, which enabled her to benefit from the clean Cotswold air and recover completely from a bout of Tuberculosis. In her early teenage years Pat took to horse-riding, as well as cleaning out the stables, and had riding lessons from Pat Smyth, the famous Olympic show-jumper. She would often relate stories of her favourite piebald pony named Taffy, who would accompany her home to her grandmother’s house in Tivoli, Cheltenham, where she would fasten him outside and feed him through a front window. On one occasion she incurred her grandmother’s wrath by leading Taffy through the front door, down the hall, and through the kitchen in order to feed him in the tiny rear garden! Not only was Pat very fond of Taffy, she was exceptionally close to her grandmother, and suffered badly when she passed away, from cancer, in 1954. This was not before Pat had been introduced to Elizabeth Taylor, the English-born Hollywood actress, who had been a house-guest at Cliffordyne House, Rencomb, Cheltenham, where grandmother Biltcliffe was the house-keeper.

Although my roots are in Devon, I didn’t really get to experience the joys of North Cornwall until Pat suggested we spend a touring holiday there in 1960. She had holidayed there with a girl-friend before, and was anxious to show me the delights of Constantine Bay beach, and the Padstow area. This provided a catalyst for both of us, and we honeymooned there in 1962 and for many years after spent regular happy family holidays in and around that area, soaking up the sun, surfing on wooden surfboards, and enjoying pasties and Cornish cream (not together I hasten to add!).

In no time at all after we were married, son Nigel was born, and a few years later daughter Rebecca arrived, so we were a complete unit, and Pat felt fulfilled. She was in her element - looking after the children, feeding us, and maintaining the family home in its usual immaculate condition. Pat had a great flair for interior design and décor, and was always able to apply the finishing touches which personalised our homes. This applied throughout our tenure of 15 houses which we occupied during our happy years together, and even in the past few months she was suggesting improvements to the aesthetic appearance of our cottage.

In 1996, Pat became a grandmother for the first time when Amalie was born, and was very proud, as we both were. The pleasure continued with the arrival of Ottilie and Iona, and last but by no means least, Tatiana. Her pride and delight in the family strength was tangible, and in a sense provided her with necessary comfort and solace after a childhood beset by illness and a somewhat insecure upbringing.

Pat was truly a lover of nature. She loved her gardens, and would spend hours in the summer tending the borders, moving favourite plants to more favourable positions, suggesting other plants to enhance the overall picture and gathering the blooms. The more the pity that, after we moved to Norfolk just over a year ago, she has been unable to fulfil her desire to tend our well-stocked and designed garden, and the greenhouse, in the way that we both anticipated she would relish.

And of course, she loved our dogs, and especially other peoples’ dogs if they happened to be Labradors. She was never happier than when displaying her love and affinity for animals by regularly groomimg and exercising them. Of the four that we have fostered over the years, her undoubted favourite was yellow Labrador Jason, who came first, and proved to be a worthy member of our family whom Nigel and Rebecca adored, even when he chewed some of Nigel’s favourite Subbuteo players (Coventry City!), and the ball. Jason was followed in turn by two black Labs - Sam, who was slightly eccentric (to say the least), and Toby, who was a sturdy gun-dog who loved to sleep upside down on an armchair in our bedroom. Kipling (Kip) is still with us; a loveable Golden Retriever who spent hours lying alongside Pat in the bedroom as her illness took hold, seemingly aware of her extreme discomfort.

Patricia was a remarkable lady. Her personal attributes are too many to be listed here, but we can start with the old English meaning of the Christian name Patricia – A NOBLE WOMAN. This she undoubtedly was. Noble in outlook, Noble in deed, Noble in appearance, she most certainly epitomised the description Patrician. Couple with this fortitude, selflessness, infinite patience and graciousness, and we go some way towards understanding what her true and underestimated qualities really were.

It is unfortunate that Pat’s illness happened too soon, and caused her undeserved discomfort, pain, and undoubted mental anguish. But an abiding memory of the past year will be her love for her family and her, typically selfless, undiminished appreciation of all that we and the medical profession did to help her in her hour of need.

We will love her forever.