precise, as she and I were always close and shared a lot from time to
time, though always on her terms and only as far as she was willing
to allow me to see into her soul. We weren’t so close as to be on
‘hugging’ terms and she certainly wasn’t one to talk about her
inner feelings in any great depths, rather she would have denied
having any real emotions at all. Auntie Madge wasn’t into hugging
and shows of affection, but I loved her nonetheless even though she
would always throw scorn on any show of affection that I would
occasionally and tentatively attempt to give to her.
absolutely and freely confess that I was in awe of her and thought of
her as a strong and independent person and I didn’t realise until
the last few years of her life how messed up she was inside.
my saviour from an unkind and overbearing father. If and when he
became too ‘physical’ I would fly to her for help and I always
loved her for her intervention and protection, though later I came to
find her the most difficult person in my life notwithstanding my huge
respect for her.
no way of verifying the accuracy of the things that I was told by my
aunt as she spent her last days whilst she was in an agony of pain
and despair, often telling me that she wished that she could ‘wake
up dead,’ but it is a story that is honest and a story that should
be believed, if only for the fact that the woman was dying and wanted
her story to be told.
did indeed become a difficult woman towards the end of her life, but
she wasn’t always so. I remember her as being a ray of light in my
miserable childhood, but as the years progressed my life became
better, as her life became more and more unbearable. This is her true
story as I remember it.
born into a family that was disjointed; at least it was in my
opinion. Mother had married my father in a hurry. I don’t know
whether or not she was pregnant, or whether marrying him was an act
of desperation to get away from her childhood home, but I don’t
believe that she ever truly loved my father and in fact I don’t