Aunt Marion has lived there for over thirty years. She divorced her husband twenty five years ago and later he died. She lives there with her fifty year old son John who never left home. And that's another story.
Aunt Marion will be eighty in October and she has no intention of having a funeral or traditional wake. Instead she wanted a summer party with friends and family. An event for the living with chatter and laughter and good food.
We were there with Ian, Frances, Stewart and Little Phoebe. There were perhaps sixty other members of Aunt Marion and therefore Shirley's wider family. I have met all of them before but there are such large time-gaps between family events that I tend to forget many of the names. It can be quite embarrassing. For example, today I called the husband of one of Shirley's older cousins John when his name is Steve.
There was a groaning buffet table in the kitchen filled with savoury delights, followed by summer desserts and plenty of strawberries. Then guests just sat around catching up.
Little Phoebe kept dragging her grandpa away. We visited the church next door three times and she held my hand as though I was the little boy. One time she had a ball with her and she laughed as she spurned my strong advice, "This is the road Phoebe. Cars go by so please don't throw the ball!"
We left around four o'clock for the hour long journey home - along the M180 to the M18 and then a couple of miles north on the M1 to the Sheffield Parkway which takes you right into the heart of the city.
It meant a lot to Shirley to have her immediate family with her at this happy occasion in that cavernous Victorian house.
from Yorkshire Pudding https://ift.tt/RCehjHk