Remembering a Mad Cat Lady

Today was the funeral of that dear family friend that I've talked of periodically on here over the last few years.  She was the most wonderful, eccentric, eclectic person I knew.

It is hard to believe that she is no longer with us on this mortal Earth.  I have never known life without her and she will be sorely missed.

Today, at the funeral, when Kate, the vicar, talked of how she touched the lives around her, it struck me more than with any other person I have known, how true this was. How she did so much for people and made their life a better place.  Up to her final year, she was involved in the choir and flowers for the church, taught singing and dancing at a dance school, acted in plays, did props for plays, made costumes and wedding dresses, knitted, crocheted and made jams and preserves for the church fairs, read books galore, was a worker for the local voluntary care unit.

I think back upon my childhood memories of her and I see Norma, that was her name, in the choir vestry during Friday evening choir practice. In mind, she is wearing her pigskin coat which was a sort of pale green colour. I used to snuggle up to her arm and delight in the soft feel of her coat.  I remember my Mum and her singing the tenor and bass solos for Stainer's choral work, The Crucifixion, when there weren't always men willing to sing those parts and at times, cheekily informing Auntie Norma that she was singing flat whilst my own Mummy was singing sharp.

Christmases held an annual event that was an crucial element to every Christmas. A week or so before Christmas, Norma would always come round to us for our own Christmas together.  Mum would prepare a Turkey Christmas dinner or perhaps Roast beef with all the trimmings, crackers included, and then we would share our Christmas presents to each other.  Some years, we would go to Norma's house.   I am not a fan of Christmas pudding and my Mum used to buy me profiteroles. But the first year we went to Norma's house for our Christmas get-together, she said she would make me dessert.  When it came to dessert, out she came with this individual apple pie for me. Out of minute, perfect-sized pastry letters, she had written my name Kerenza in concentric circles. My name in pastry 15 times.  It was so beautiful and so thoughtful, I was touched. That she'd made that effort for me.

Another thoughtful thing she did was inviting me to help her make her cats' Christmas dinner on Christmas eve.  I can't remember how old I was, but I don't know if she was looking after me to give Mum a break or that my sister was doing something or that she was just being nice but she invited m to come round.  We cooked turkey mince and then I had to use her old fashioned green-metal mincer to mince breadcrumbs to put in it.  Spaghetti had to be broken into tiny pieces and added in.  Gravy included and then this feast was to feed her cats on Christmas day.  She was so thoughtful. Anyone else might have given them a tin of Sheba but she did this specially.  After this, we made dinner for us.  Fish fingers, baked beans and then mashed potato which we mashed ourselves- this was my first experience of that. I loved that time and relished going back another year to do the same.

Every piano exam I ever took was preceded by hours of practice at her house since she had a piano and we only had a keyboard. I always recall her telling me how when she did her Grade 8 piano, she was asked to play a C minor scale by the examiner who was then amazed how she had managed to play the melodic scale in her left hand and the harmonic scale in her right hand simultaneously and she didn't notice she'd done it!

So many happy occasions going round to play with her cats.  Playing her old piano and marvelling that she didn't have a TV, only a little old black and white model.  Helping her clean and tidy when Mum's Icelandic penpals were coming to stay at Norma's because we had no room.

Asking her to do the third reading at my wedding. Her and the two Mums. It was very fitting.

The midnight Dalek dress.

The time I asked her to help teach me to use her sewing machine and making my Mum a beautiful denim wrap around skirt.  The hours she spent with me patiently not wringing my neck as I got to grips with the overlocker.  Remembering when she helped me make my Dalek dress and how patient she was when I was still there at midnight, trying to unpick the poppers I'd sewn on back to front.

I own things that will remain with me always that she made- my crochet blanket, my Doctor Who scarf, my red duffle cardigan, my Doctor Who Romana-inspired black concert dress.

My 10 foot scarf!

When we left our first church and went to another one, Norma came with us and sang in that choir.

What most people remember about her was just how funny she was. Oh the stories she would tell from her school days of swimming to the delights of her stories from her work at the BBC in the Sound Archives department, being at her 'Lady from the BBC talks', tales of what her cats did including the famous Lennie the Loathsome who I loved so much, the cat who ate all the chocolate off the Malteasers, Emma who used to press mice under the carpet.

Her love of books. She truly was a voracious reader who might read 40 books a month or more. She was the one who introduced me to Terry Pratchett.  I remember phoning her sometime last November and her telling me about her sadness of reading his final book, Shepherd's Crown. I remember it vividly as I was walking through the beautiful park near my old home.  Her telling me about interesting books and my marvelling at her knowledge.

I regret that in the last few years, when I had moved away, I did not see her so much. I regret that much but I am so grateful that her diagnosis in March of having 2 weeks to live extended to October and I was able to see her.   She was someone who truly lived life and enjoyed it.

I truly loved this lady and as I said goodbye to her for the last time two Thursdays ago, late at night as she lay unconscious, close to death, I muttered, I love you to her, feeling embarrassed as I said it front of the other three visitors but wanting to tell her I loved her and I was so grateful for her presence in my life, for always being there.  Wishing above all, that I had asked for 5 minutes with her to say it, the way I did with my Grandfather. Curse my inability to speak about my feelings in front of others.

Don't be sad I'm gone, be glad I lived. Oh how true that is. I will be sad that I cannot laugh and ask her stories. I wish I could have asked her to tell me her stories in the last few months so I could laugh over them. However, she will always remain a part of my heart and I mean that most truly.  When I heard the readings today, how true and fitting they were.
Isaiah 40, 28, read so beautifully by my Mum today, stated:

Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
29 He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
30 Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
31 but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.

I take comfort in this. Truly, Norma gained her wings.

Norma, thank you for being in my life. I am so glad you are with God, for I am certain and glad that you are in his presence.

xxx