Mum and Dad

We seem to be on a bit of a nostalgia kick at the moment, and Aynil has suggested that we blip images of our parent's wedding. This I am very happy to do.

This was taken in 1944 - middle of World War 2. Mum wore a borrowed wedding dress and veil, and the flowers were the only thing brand new - picked from somebodies garden - certainly not bought. I remember Mum told me that the wedding cake was a decorated cardboard form, with a tiny carrot cake inside.

Had they lived, they would have been married 70 years ago this year.

They both died quite young - Mum when she was only 55, from breast cancer. It took about 2 years from diagnosis until the end. And Dad when he was 60, from liver cancer. It took just 12 weeks from diagnosis to the end. And to this day I don't know which was worst for me - or for the parents.

Dad was 21 when this photo was taken, and Mum was 24. They had exactly £5 between them, and their only piece of furniture was a second hand table given to them by the vicar.

The church is very interesting. It's Brixworth Church in Northamptonshire. Very famous for being:

All Saints' Church, Brixworth, in Northamptonshire, is an outstanding example of early Anglo-Saxon architecture located in central England, and has been called "perhaps the most imposing architectural memorial of the 7th century yet surviving north of the Alps". It is the largest English church which remains substantially as it was in the Anglo-Saxon period.

Mum was a house maid at a big house called Cottesbrook Hall, her father was farm manager there; and they lived in Creaton. I'm really not sure how Mum and Dad met, but shortly after they were married they moved up to Yorkshire - oh I remember, because Dad was working for the WARAG, supervising teams of Italian prisoners of war who were engaged on a big drainage project up there. All Yorkshire blippers of a certain age will know what I'm talking about.

He left the WARAG to work as a clerk for the railways in Skipton.

Ah, memories, memories.

As a result of this little project, I have old photos scattered all over my office and in the kitchen. I'm sorting them into piles to send them to members of the extended family in N. Ireland and England. It's their history too, and my brother and I are the last of our own line. Neither of us has children.