When my sister died, it wasn't just her own childhood memories that disappeared. Mine did too
And then I got the call: my sister Millie had died. Her death, at the age of 47, was sudden and unexpected. She was my only sibling – four years younger than me. I put the book down. I'll probably never finish it.
Shock grief is not the same as 'here it comes' grief, the feeling you eventually get when someone has been ill and deteriorating for some time. There's no chance for reflection while shock is in charge. In the days that followed, I was overwhelmed by one notion: that someone ought to tell Millie she was dead – she didn't see this coming either – and that the someone ought to be me.
Then the sadness began to change. Shock grief gave way to something new. Let's call it horizontal grief. I'd done vertical grief. My father died years ago, and I have lost grandparents and aunts and uncles – but losing the only other member of the family who went to the same primary school as me and with whom I shared the back seat of the Austin Maxi and argued over the Kellogg's variety pack on day one of every holiday was something new and dreadful.
My sister was a lot of what I'm not. She was immensely practical. Pulling down a wall was, to her, what straightening a picture is to me. Millie also (unlike me) had a phenomenal memory for detail. She could describe the pyjamas I was wearing when we were woken by the garden wall getting blown down in the great storm of 1987 (when I first and finally heard my mum say 'fuck'). She knew the name of the boy at the French holiday camp who told 10-year-old me how babies were made. She remembered my imaginary friend, Tommy Taplin, better than I did.
As Millie's death graduated from a 'shock' to a 'thing', I began to realise just how much I had always relied on her version of events. When she was born, she 'bought me' (in the charming, absurd tradition that an unborn sibling is gestating alongside a gift) a present. It was something to do with either Noddy or the Wombles. But which? I'll never know again. When she died, she took the memory of not one but two childhoods with her – in all their vivid, silly, scattered, doesn't-matter-but-it-does detail.
I feel as though I have lost a witness, someone who can attest to what happened to us both. Millie is gone; my father has been dead many years; and my mother's memory is cruelly abandoning her. It is as though 90% of the family photo albums are suddenly gone. 'To lose your younger sister is a terrible thing,' wrote Blake Morrison. 'There's no one alive to check the truth.'
I am resigned to a future of 'I don't know'. Why did our dad throw his career away in his 30s? I don't know. But he would have told Millie. Did I imagine an apparently lost bus struggling to turn around in our cul-de-sac one Saturday morning? Millie would have been able to confirm. Did our nan smoke weed? I'm sure Millie mentioned that once. Except I'm not sure now, and can't be.
Memories are the stories we tell ourselves, and they are the building blocks of the self. But if you can't remember the stories, who are you? Anyone who has loved someone with memory issues knows the horror that is watching a personality vanish while the person remains. Dementia, if heredity determines it, could be my future. The rest of my memories could in time be corrupted and deleted.
For many bigger reasons, I miss Millie. She was very, very alive – an inveterate showoff, and with good reason. I have never known anyone more impossible to ignore. One memory I hope I never lose is of her blazing her way through Katy Perry's Roar at a children's party, madly choreographing all the kids. Louder than a lion, that was my sister.
Jason Hazeley is a comedy writer who is partly responsible for TV untellectual Philomena Cunk
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Belfast Telegraph
3 days ago
- Belfast Telegraph
Donegal five bed on market for under €900,000
Built in 1986, the property, situated in Drumardagh, 10 minutes outside Letterkenny, has been extensively refurbished and includes triple glazed Rationel windows and doors, and a new roof. The split-level design of the home, which sits on an elevated site, ensures that panoramic views are maximised – almost every room enjoys views of Lough Swilly and beyond. From the entrance hall, French doors lead to the formal drawing room and access to the open plan kitchen-dining room. The drawing room has an open fire, ornate fire surround and cast iron and tiled inset. There is a bay window to frame the impressive views. The kitchen is finished with painted in-frame kitchen units and boasts a central island with sink, integrated Neff appliances, a gas hob and oil-fired Aga. There is a sunroom off the kitchen-dining room with a south facing patio finished in Liscannor stone. Drumardagh House is home to three large double bedrooms on the ground floor, one of which is the master suite (with ensuite). The family bathroom is also on this level and has a freestanding bath and separate shower. On the lower level, you'll find a lounge with access to outside decking area. There are an additional two bedrooms on this level, one currently in use as a nursery/playroom and the other a large bedroom which enjoys separate access. If needed, these spaces could be used as consulting rooms with a separate waiting area. This separate entrance is adjacent to the integrated garage, large in size, that benefits from an additional storage area. There are three patios, which means homeowners can enjoy the sun at various stages of the day. Additionally, there is a good-sized balcony on the first floor – imagine drinking your morning tea there. French doors from the drawing room led to the balcony and the master bedroom also offers access to a second balcony at first floor level.
The Herald Scotland
3 days ago
- The Herald Scotland
The quiet Scot who revealed some of Hitler's last words
And that, as the conflict in Europe came to an end and the celebrations began, it would be Fife-born Rena who would be given a particularly onerous task; one that required all of her language skills, acute attention to detail and ability to keep a secret. Alongside another young woman who, like her, had studied at St Andrews University before being picked to work at Bletchley Park, Rena's war efforts continued well beyond VE Day. While 80 years ago the nation's focus turned to victory over Japan and VJ Day, she was in Germany, translating interrogations of German intelligence officers and, critically, Hitler's personal will. Bletchley Park, centre of Allied codebreaking during the Second World War Just how a young woman from Fife came to be given the job of translating the final personal will of the architect of the Holocaust was captured in the nick of time, when she finally opened up about her wartime work at the top secret home of the codebreakers, Bletchley Park. However, just a few months after speaking about her work to biographer Victoria Walsh, Rena passed away. She was 100 years old. Rena's memories of working in the German Book Room at Bletchley Park and her role translating Hitler form the basis of a new book that traces her journey from Lundin Links and a childhood 'filled with books, music and Scottish dancing' to the heart of the secret war effort and, later, a pioneering role at the BBC. 'They had the secrecy of their work drummed into them,' says writer Victoria, whose chats with Rena in her final months offer fascinating insight into the camaraderie of the Bletchley Park women, the daily demands made on them and the personal sacrifices they made then and in their later lives. 'She was still incredibly active even though she was 100 years old, and she remembered the war years very well. 'But even though the Official Secrets Act had been lifted and people like Rena were allowed to talk about their work, often they still didn't want to. 'And some would take it to their grave.' (Image: Contributed/Victoria Walsh) Perhaps surprisingly, adds Victoria, often the women who toiled at Bletchley Park, churning through tens of thousands of coded messages and translating snippets of details, didn't even realise the importance of their role. "They knew there was a secrecy aspect," she adds, "but they didn't even think they were doing anything special.' Read more Sandra Dick: Born in the Fife coastal village in 1923, Rena was bright and bookish with a fondness for poetry that blossomed into a love of languages. Determined to choose a career over being a housewife, she studied French and German at St Andrews University. Young Rena Stewart growing up in Fife. Image: Stewart Maclennan 'She was determined not to follow the usual route for women of the times, which was get married, have children or maybe teach," says Victoria. 'She thought studying French and German would open the world up to her. 'She didn't know exactly where it would take her and certainly couldn't have known it would lead her to Bletchley Park.' By the time she began her studies in 1940, Admiral Sir Hugh Sinclair, head of M16, had already taken over the country house near Milton Keynes for use as part of the secret war effort. Rena Stewart studied French and German at St Andrews University during the early years of World War II. Image: Stewart Maclennan Earmarked for the Code and Cypher School and Secret Intelligence Service, it was handy for a supply of bright students from Oxford and Cambridge. Soon, though it was snatching bright young graduates from around the country, many of them young women like Rena who could handle the huge amount of information that flowed through its walls. Recruited in early 1944, she worked in the German Book Room, surrounded by around 40 other women like her rattling away at typewriters, working in German and handling secret German military messages. Rena had a role at Bletchley Park (Image: Stewart Maclennan) 'She would be analysing secret messages, filling in any gaps and making sure they read properly so intelligence analysts could use them to chart the course of the war,' says Victoria. 'They worked all day in shifts, and it was serious work, probably in a smoky room and it would be stressful because they would know how important it was to the outcome of the war. 'But they also made sure they had fun in their spare time.' To keep spirits up and to drown out the constant clatter of typewriter keys, the women sang songs, including one which Rena sang for Victoria as she recalled her war work. Signatures of Bletchley Park women left on a song sheet from May 1945 (Image: Contributed) 'The second and last time I met Rena, in her living room down in London, we were talking about Bletchley Park when all of a sudden, she burst into song,' she recalls. 'She had remembered that she and the 40 women of 'The German Book Room' had made up a song about their time there, toiling away at their typewriters. 'The song went to the tune of My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean and was called The Swan Song of GBR. 'It was all about how fed up they were of typing and how they wished for the war to be over. 'Rena couldn't remember all the words, but it was an unforgettable moment.' Victoria later found Rena shared a typed copy of the song, signed by the German Book Room 'girls' in May 1945, to the museum at Bletchley Park. The end of the war in Europe brought their German Book Room work to a close, but Rena's service was not yet over. Instead of being demobbed, she and some others from the German Book Room were sent to an interrogation centre near Hanover in Germany, where they were given the important task of translating the statements of captured Nazi officers ahead of the Nuremberg Trials. Rena and other women on parade in Germany (Image: Stewart Maclennan)Another role specifically for Rena – known affectionately as Sgt McHaggis – and fellow Bletchley Park colleague and St Andrews alumna, Margery Forges, from Dundee, was even more pressurised. Handed to them by the head of the unit, Major Bill Oughton, they were told to work together on translating a document with the instruction: 'Take as long as you like, but there must be no mistakes, and you must agree on all details'. Hitler had two wills, a political will and a personal will which stated who his executors would be, stating how he had married Eva Braun and who was to inherit his belongings. It had been dictated 24 hours before he killed himself. It had to be perfect and they consulted every dictionary they could to make sure it was absolutely right. Tracking down the two wills had already been something of a saga involving a trio of messengers' efforts to smuggle the documents out of Germany before they were finally seized by the Allies. Sergeant Rena Stewart - affectionately known as Sgt McHaggis - while serving in Germany (Image: Stewart Maclennan) Rena and Margery were trusted with Hitler's personal will: a task Margery's family only discovered by chance, years after her death. Rena was finally demobbed in 1947, but that was just the start of another remarkable chapter. Having refused to settle for marriage and housework and having had a taste of international relations, Rena set sights on becoming a journalist with the BBC. But she was at an immediate disadvantage, says Victoria. Read more Sandra Dick: 'She couldn't say anything about her secret wartime work,' adds Victoria. 'It took her a long time to find a job and there were a lot of people who had been demobbed ahead of her. 'But she was very determined and she became a huge inspiration for younger women.' Having started at the bottom typing scripts and making tea, she rose to become the BBC World Service's first female senior duty editor. Rena Stewart went on to blaze a trail for women at the BBC World Service In her later years she occupied her time with simple tasks: editing the magazine for the church close to her Ealing home, running Scottish country dancing sessions and planning Burns Suppers – all a world away from the pressure of Bletchley Park. 'Rena left Scotland in 1943 and never moved back,' adds Victoria. 'But she was always incredibly proud to be Scottish, and she kept up her love of Scottish culture for a century. 'She deserves to be better known.' The Story of Rena Stewart is published by Pen and Sword Books.
Belfast Telegraph
4 days ago
- Belfast Telegraph
Look inside: Cosy character-filled cottage by Co Antrim coast on the market £275,000
Amenities include oil-fired central heating and wood-framed double-glazed windows, and there are plans passed for extension. Imbued with a welcoming atmosphere, which sets it apart from what else is on the market, it is set on a generously sized plot and boasts mature gardens complete with personality. (If you imagine winding paths and private nooks, you're on the money.) Inside, the interior continues to pay homage to the property's heritage, while full of comfort and functionality. There are ample original features to entice potential homeowners. The utility area has a Belfast-style sink, built-in units and is plumbed for a slimline dishwasher. The kitchen has an integrated Rayburn range with tiled surround, with space for fridge. Additional amenities include mug hooks, plate racks and shelving units. It is open plan through to the lounge/dining area, which has a log burner with slate hearth and feature beamed ceilings. Within, there is a solid wood floor and wood-framed double-glazed French doors leading to rear garden. There are three bedrooms, each with wood flooring and one with a wood surround fireplace with cast iron inset and tiled hearth. The shower room has a fully tiled walk-in shower area with mains rainfall shower head and electric underfloor heating. Externally, there is a brick built barbecue area with solid wood worktop with storage below and recessed brick fire pit. A caravan to the rear of the garden has electric points and wood flooring. The gardens are surrounded by a selection of trees, shrubbery and hedging, and there are two outhouses (one with space for fridge-freezer) and a potting shed with light and power. Christmas Cottage is a short drive Ballycastle's town centre, beaches and the Causeway Coast.
