It was sometime during the second world war when Mary Phillips sent for her sister Maggie.My memory is not very clear about times and dates seventy years ago, but I remember my mammy, wee Maggie, holding my young cousin, Maurice, in her arms as we awaited the doctor, and I remember my aunt Mary's wail of despair when my mammy told her, through dripping tears, that the child was 'coul'. "He's coul, Mary,"And I felt the dread as I heard the words from my mother's lips.

Dabbler
Death was a sad and feared occurrence then ( not only then ). I remember the old folks always paid an insurance to ensure they and their families had a proper burial . The "society men" were always active on Friday evenings ( pay day ), circling the area , collecting the cash weekly.
When one of the children married then the partner´s family were also insured to compensate for loss of wages if one died and the breadwinner had to take a day off work for the funereal.
Happy Easter everyone, herself and I are off to the 1972 Olympic Games arena to walk around and maybe lunch there although I have a kilo piece of Entrecôte steak from Lidl which we planned to eat today. but it keeps until next week. We had considered driving to Kufstein or Salzburg which is only an hour down the Autobahn.but then said that would be better planned for a weekday as there would be less traffic.
donald

Donald
Nice to see you on Easter Day. Despite the German background, there is something 'Lisburnish' in all your posts that makes me smile.
My wife suffers constantly recurring backache, which makes us virtual prisoners in our (comfortable) home.

Dabbler, that was a very sad memory for you as a child. It must have been devastating for the mother of the child and your mother also. At least, he died in your mother's warm arms. Was your brother, Maurice, called after this child?

Donald, I see you and the missues are out and about again. You have a quare oul time of it, eatin' and drinkin' and holidaying here and there. I might add you're just right. The thought of that big steak makes me feel ill. I only very occasionally eat a fillet steak but even that now is becoming distasteful to me. Last one I had I couldn't even finish. I think I could be a vegetarian only I'm too old to start that caper now. I love vegetables and honestly could live on them for dinner or lunch. We went out last night for dinner and I brought home the chicken which I just couldn't eat. I didn't even start it, so Tess will probably enjoyed that over the next couple of days. Enjoyed the champ and vegetables though. My daughter, not a pick of fat on her, wolfed her dinner down, followed that with a rich chocolate brownie sereved with ice cream and fresh cream, and then a large coffee. The men had all that plus wine plus Irish coffees. I suppose I'm the odd one out come to think of it.

Ann
Thank you for responding to this very personal tale. I know I've told it previously. I think it was very traumatic for me, as I still remember it after all these years. I don't want a psychological analysis here, but my wife says she heard me howling like a wolf many times in my sleep.
I think I was told that my younger brother was named after his dead cousin.

Ann
That is only one of the attractions of Munich and Bavaria, you are central here and it´s only a short trip to Switzerland, Austria or Italy.
Munich itself is a beautiful place to live, the city is wonderful and the citizens are open and friendly with no hatred to any foreigners. I have been here now since 1971 and where I live , although being part of Munich has a rural character with everyone knowing everyone. The best part of a holiday for me is the return journey to Munich and the family. Our kids helped us to integrate and I became and still remain a member of a few local clubs and associations, the German ex soldier and comrades club to mention but one. This has no political significance being entirely a social gathering. The vast majority of members are too young to have been active in WW11, my neighbour who is 96 was. When I am being interred in the local cemetery which I hope is not in the near future then when I´m being lowered into my last resting place an Ompa Ompa orchestra will play " Ich hatte einen Kamaraden" and lower the club´s banner!
donald

Donald, you mentioned something in your post which made me think of how similar our paths are, even though I am a few years your senior. Silently and subtlely, the thoughts of our mortality creep into everyday life now. You mention the hymn being played as you are laid in your final resting place. I, too, have written down favourite hymns to be played at my own funeral. Hopefully, as I've stated a wish to live until I'm 200, this will be a long way away. I think you have also expressed a wish to stay with me until 200 as well, so we both have a road to travel yet. I suppose it's just how life is. When we're young we only think of tomorrow. Now, we're looking ahead and our thought patterns alter. Life is short. Depressing, but true.

Ann,
Now I can accept that we are not immortal and all must leave this world behind sometime. The only regret I have is that I cannot pass on my experience to my kids and grand kids. For example if 60 years ago I had known as much as I do today how important education and languages are for advancement in life then no one could stop me from learning and acquiring qualifications for later life. As an apprentice in Mackies in the 60s with a take home pay from less than a fiver per week, travelling home to Hilden after 8 hours work,eating a meal, trying to remove the oil and grime from my hands with cold water and then attending evening classes in Lisburn Tech 4 nights a week I often lost interest in achieving good examination results.Only having to answer to my father if the exam results did not meet his expectation kept me going. If only we could turn back the clock.
donald

I've snorkelled in the Caribbean, ski-ed in the Alps, and seen the bullet holes in the walls in Bucharest the year after the Romanian revolution.
Now, I just want to buy my brother a pint, before I kick the bucket. My funeral? Who cares? I won't be there.

I've just had the week from hell. I said to myself self I said i'll just have a wee sniff into the forum it'll cheer me up. boy was that a mistake. scan down the last lot of posts. have you lot lost the will to live. you bemoan the fact that no new blood comes into the forum. if I was a stranger I wouldn't want to venture anywhere near it. you are where you are in life now for better or for worse. so shape up and start talking about pole dancing(whatever happened to that idea?) pubs etc. I'd like to leave you with this thought. your only as old as the woman you feel. I'm now going for a depressed lurk

As my old missus goes off for a kidney checkup, (she's far more worried about her severe upper back pain), and I act madder by the minute, I'll try to take Eamon's advice. Any free Viagra out there? LOL

Dabbler
was reading just now that they have introduced Viagra for ladies also now so that they can also stand longer ( in the kitchen )
donald

Eamon, you can't escape age by not thinking or talking about it. It doesn't make me depressed, well maybe just a bit if I'm honest. I look on it as another chapter, a different one. As Donald says, and I agree, if we could turn back the clock I'm sure most of us would do things differently. Pity we can't get that across to the younger ones, but they have to live their lives too. Remember when our parents tried to advise us? We wouldn't have been seen dead doing what they asked, called them old-fashioned and out of touch. Now we're in the situation. In my head I'm 36 and I would like to keep on feeling this way. However, a few wee aches and pains remind me of my real age. Can't complaint, though. I'm pretty fit and could give my age group a run for their money. Keep on truckin'.

but you will Dabbler no funeral with out the corpse

Barney, It's only a dead body. I don't care if they eat it.

My aunt Jane
She called me in
She gave me tea out of her wee tin
Half a bap with sugar on the top
And three black lumps
Out of her wee shop.
Charlie Doherty
circa 1945

As BRENDAN BEHAN said "Death where is thy sting a ling a ling"

I say "Eye has not seen nor ear heard what great things GOD has
in store for those who love Him"

God said to the good thief who repented " Today you will be with Me in
Paradise"

SO take your pick, it is your choice.

Pat

Pat; I'll go with Brendan.
As I told yez, I met and chatted with his brother, Brian. Bragged a bit, that one, and wasn't a patch on Brendan, but gullible Joe was flattered that he bothered to chat.
And The old triangle went jingle jangle.
So me, I'll be either going up in smoke or lying there for millions of years while you lot are strumming harps or singing hymns. Or maybe oul nick is stoking up this minute, getting ready for me. If so, I hope he spares me an hour or two to talk to my old mates.
You're a lucky girl Pat, to believe that an eternity of joy awaits you.

Dabs,

It awaits everyone who puts their trust in God. Unbelief comes to us all but the prayer, "God, I believe, help my unbelief" says it all.

We are only human, we see thru' a glass darkly. Death opens our eyes to Divinity.

I have great hopes for you Dabs.

Pat

Dabbler, when Dominic has had one too many he never fails to sing "My Aunt Jane". Gives himself away every time.

Ann
I haven't been drunk for a few years.

Dabbler, Dominic isn't a big drinker, but on special occasions he has been known to overdo it, only very occasionally though. Next day he complains of having "the cold" or even "flu", tiredness too When I tell him it's the drink, he doesn't be too pleased and is hard to convince. When I further tell him he was singing "My Aunt Jane" he has to admit his guilt.

Harmless!

Dabbler, I agree. He's been well trained.