Molly (1912-1981)

Why I have chosen to sit down here and write about my grandmother who died twelve days ago may seem a strange thing to do, but I feel that she is undoubtedly one of the finest people that I shall come across in my life.

Molly was a marvellous person. She had countless friends when she died, all of whom felt very strongly about her. The reasons for this would be clear to anyone who had ever come across her. For she was an intriguing, exciting and flamboyant person. She simply loved life and was always thrilled over just about anything. Her friendliness might be called a disadvantage for she was so friendly that people could easily take advantage of her. But Molly was no fool; beneath all her kindness was a clever person, who knew how life worked. Perhaps one of her nicest things was her unselfishness. She never put herself first, but was always thoughtful and caring about others. She was also an uncomplicated person, putting herself forward as she was, rather than putting on all sorts of guises. Like all of us, she had strong feelings about some things, but this only added to her whole personality and made her all the more likeable.

She was always quite immaculate. Even for relatively unimportant events, she really cared how she looked and made great efforts to look stunning, but this was not for selfish reasons at all – she was just that sort of person. She cared about others too and was always very interested in clothing. She had two other major interests – cooking and gardening. She was a superb cook, specializing particularly in Chinese food and many other unusual recipes. But perhaps most remarkable of all was the amount of time and energy she spent with her garden. She cared most of all about her lawn which was a difficult job. But she persevered, year after year. Why? Because she cared so much about tidiness, with her garden, house, person, family, just about everything.

Molly hated being sick, poor thing, for she was such an active person. As well as working so hard, she would sit and enjoy the simple pleasures of life – for example, feeding the birds. She loved the birds, she loved her two houses, she loved her early morning tea but perhaps most of all, she loved her family and did all she could for them.

Molly had two sons, Lee and Hugo, and three grandchildren, Inigo, Piers and myself. She was ridiculously nice to them, especially her three grandchildren, and very close, unlike some grandmothers. And her grandchildren and children and daughter-in-law all loved her too. She was really part of the family. An example of her unselfishness was that when Hugo married Mummy, she was sad at losing her son but unlike some mothers never intervened again, always letting Hugo have Mummy as his first woman. She was just a perfect grandmother.

Molly was terribly fond of her sisters as well and often told us stories from her childhood. She never bored us, however, for she had a lovely way of telling them. She was also an encyclopaedia of old tunes and seemed to be able to sing any song from round about 1930.

The fates were never very kind to her. Although Friday the thirteenth was her lucky day (and the day she was born on), many unhappy incidents happened in her life. Her husband spent most of the war in a Japanese prison, then died of lung cancer in 1968. She herself was ill in 1972 but recovered. Sadly, however, in February 1981 she developed the same disease as before – cancer – and died on 4th October. She did go to Sicily with her family in July, but she need not have died aged sixty-nine. Her disease was horrible and painful and, poor thing, she did so hate being ill as she was such a lively, active and caring person.

Many people came to her funeral, which was hardly surprising as her type is rarely encountered indeed. My grandmother was a very special person and I loved her as much as I love anyone.

Andrew Patten – October 1981