My Auntie Joyce

Auntie Joyce, Mum, me, Dad, Auntie Gill, July 1995 at my Graduation

Thursday was the funeral of my Auntie Joyce who died suddenly on the 2nd February not long after her 78th birthday. At the funeral we were asked to think and hold fast the memories we have of my Auntie Joyce, and I wished at the time that I had been able to share some of those memories with everyone at the funeral. So I thought that this blog would be as good a place as any to write about my Auntie Joyce and my memories of her.

I will always remember my Auntie Joyce with a smile on my face, she was always laughing and making jokes. The last time I saw her, in the summer, she was joking as soon as I arrived, usually at my Mum's expense. Visiting my Auntie Joyce was always fun when I was little. There would always be sport on the telly, my uncle and aunt were the first people I knew who had cable TV this was back in the 80s before Sky. They had cable for one reason only, so they could watch the sport. I loved watching the sport, we never had sport on at home unless it was the tennis at Wimbledon once a year. Although my Mum watched a lot of sport when she was younger she didn't watch much when I was young. It was thanks to my Auntie Joyce and my Nana that I have my love of sport.

As well as the exotic treat of watching sport on the telly, there would always be pop to drink and chocolate biscuits and when I was older, sweet tea with sterilized milk. In Stoke-on-Trent where my Mum's family are from, sterilized milk was popular into the 80s, it had a very distinctive taste and came in longer narrower bottles than pasteurized milk.

My Auntie Joyce also had a loud but soft dog when I was little called Rex. He was a part border collie and a soppy looking thing, his bark was so fierce though and he wouldn't let the rent man into the small block of flats my Auntie Joyce lived in. My Auntie and Uncle were sent letters about their "fierce" dog and had a sign saying "Dangerous dog at large." Of course the dog was all bark, once he'd calmed down he was a big softy.

My Auntie Joyce always had a funny story to tell you about something she'd been up to, like the time she called out the sheltered housing warden because she was convnced she had heard a burglar in her bungalow. My Uncle Norman had heard nothing and when he and the warden had searched everywhere and found nothing they questioned my Auntie Joyce about what the noise had sounded like. She thought for a while and finally said. "Well it sounded like coat hangers clattering, when I come to think of it." They opened the wardrobe and sure enough found the clothes and coat hangers all on the floor of the wardrobe and the pole holding them up fallen too! Those coat hanger burglars had struck again!

For me though my over whelming memory of my Auntie Joyce is a feeling and that is the total feeling of love, warmth and pride that I would feel when my Auntie Joyce would hug me. She had such a generosity of love and warmth and I always knew that she was so proud of me no matter what. I just hope that I can be an Auntie to my nieces and nephew, like she was an auntie to me.