The obituary notice of Sr CARMEL

Shalom, my Dearest Carmel.

When I was a boy, in the mining Valleys of South Wales (the Rhondda, in my case), it was said that any collier who – by act or omission – had upset his wife would, on returning home from his shift, toss his flat cap (known locally as a ‘Dai-cap’) into their living room. If it stayed, he knew that all was well, and that he was forgiven. If it was hurled back out…….trouble!

Well, although I remember you – and talk to you – every single day, I did forget that Wednesday the 14th May was your birthday.

So…my love, I am now tossing my Dai cap into the room; and will wait five minutes before continuing……..or else fleeing.

Ahhh…my cap has not been returned. Sorry, sweetheart. A Senior Moment on my part. A Very Happy – belated – Birthday to you.

I love you very much; as you know, very well xxx

Happy Anniversary, darling. Another year has passed, and I’m reminded of this poem by Leo Marks:

The life that I have
Is all that I have
And the life that I have
Is yours

The love that I have
Of the life that I have
Is yours and yours and yours.

A sleep I shall have
A rest I shall have
Yet death will be but a pause
For the peace of my years
In the long green grass
Will be yours and yours and yours.

I recall the trip we made to North Wales; August, 1980.

We picnicked on the grassy moorland between Bala and Blaenau Ffestiniog, enjoying the sunshine. We then travelled to, and around, Snowdonia. It was a most wonderful day.

If I could chose my Heaven, Carmel, it would be to collect you at 9.30 in the morning; to share once more that August day; and then to return you home at 8.00 in the evening. And then….to repeat that day over and over for all of eternity; on each occasion, having no memory of the day that came before, and no thought for the days to come. New every morning.

Shalom, my love xxx.

And the times when I would say something really outrageous; and you would look at me, with a quiet smile, and say: 'Oh really?......How very interesting.'

Xxx

Shalom, my love.

So here I am, at the start of my 80th year, thinking of the times I use to tease you for being soooooo much older than I; and singing that you were one of the ruins that Cromwell knocked about a bit!!

Came across an alternative beginning to that song:

'I'm very, very fond of ruins, anyone here can tell,

'You'd know I'm very fond of ruins if you saw my old gal!'

Couldn't resist this leg-pull, sweetheart.

I love you very much...as well you know xxx

Shalom, my love.

Missing you. Xxx

Shalom, my love.

I have a recording of a radio programme; in which you, and some of your fellow Sisters, speak of life as a Sister of Mercy.

These are my favourite words – spoken by yourself. Words you once said to me, shortly after we met, in 1974:

‘As a child, I had two ambitions; to be either a nun, or a film star. And then…I remember one day looking into the mirror, and thinking to myself, well….I don’t think you’ve got the face, or the figure, or maybe the talent to be a film star. Maybe you should just be a nun!’

In 1976 you gave me the photograph that fronts this site. When I asked why you smile so beautifully…with eyes so bright… you replied: ‘I was thinking of you!’

Fifty years, Carmel. For fifty years we have loved each other. I asked you to marry me (twice!)…but – as expected – you gently declined. You remained faithful to your childhood ambition; to your calling; and I have always respected that choice.

Had we married, so many people who – over the years – were touched by your tender presence; by your unfailing kindness; by your love; would have been denied. To their loss.

They knew you as a Sister of Mercy. I know you as my soulmate. God bless you, my darling.

Shalom, my love.

Still holding you close to my heart.......Now there's a surprise! ❤