My sister Fiona died over the summer and, as I usually do, I write a few words to help our family members on their way. Here are those words.
In Loving Memory of Fiona Christine
As we have all seen before when I have written tributes to our departed, I have usually been stuck in a time warp that ended in 1988. This is more or less the same but rather than relate a long litany of things, I decided to record just half a dozen things that Fiona did or said that are best known as Fionaisms.
Susan Greenwood featured large in Fiona’s life in their formative years and here’s a classic from that time:
With just Fiona and I in the room, Susan came and knocked on our back door.
For some childish reason, I shouted “We’re not in”
In a panic and as she dashed to answer the door, Fiona shouted back, “We are”!
I left home in 1974 for good or ill and, of course, returned home at the end of every term and sometimes more often. My dates were known so I was always expected. Apart from the time that a friend from Accrington was getting a lift home from his dad and they kindly offered to drive me home, too.
Providing I could go with them the day before the end of term. As if I wouldn’t agree to that.
I must have arrived around 6 pm or thereabouts and I opened the door with a ta daa, surprise … and Fiona, who’d have been about 15 at that time and who just happened to be in the middle of the room, saw me and announced “There’s no tea for you”!
Speaking of being given a lift, our Susan very kindly offered to give me a lift back to Sunderland from Tod one day and Fiona came with us. At about the half way mark we decided it was time for a cuppa. So, we pulled into a nice looking place in Harrogate, I think it was. We ordered one by one, whatever we ordered. This is Fiona’s order:
Waiter: What would you care for, madam?
Fiona: Tea, please.
Waiter: Black or white, madam?
Fiona: Wadam ... er, white, please.
I was told the following story and think it’s true but it could have happened to anyone. I don’t remember the exact conversation, so I have invented that part.
Fiona and Danny going around Madame Tussaud’s Waxworks. La la la. Ooh, look, that’s Tom Cruise. I didn’t know Arnold Schwarzenegger was so short …
Then they either got lost or wanted some information and saw someone sitting at a desk near by so Fiona sauntered over and asked them for directions.
Turns out the person behind the desk was another exhibit so there was little surprise when it didn’t answer.
Don’t forget, now that Carol and Fiona have left us, there is only one arch cheese and onion pie maker left in the family. That’s a big burden, Susan!
This final story follows on from Fiona’s baking skills. When I was living in Kazakhstan, I asked Fiona if I could make a video of her making a cheese and onion pie. She agreed and we did it and it was a good video: sadly lost to technology.
Anyway, when I got back to Almaty, I thought it would be a cracking idea to get some of our English teachers to use the video for our students to learn about English pies and to listen to a native speaker speaking.
Remembering that foreigners are usually taught to speak Cambridge or Oxford English, listening to Fiona’s West Riding accent caused a few in the audience to ask, “What on earth is she saying? Where is she from”!
That’s no reflection on Fiona at all but I thought it was an enlightening experience.
Anyway, light hearted moments at the saddest time in someone’s life. They leave so much behind and since everyone else has been with her and around her since 1988, there must be thousands and thousands more stories to tell. Or just to remember as you walk down the street, gawp at the telly or when sitting in a vacant mood one day.
Sorry you had to go so soon and it is absolutely, copper bottomed guaranteed that you are going to be missed.
Duncan
20th August 2019
