Singing the Life by Elizabeth Bryan

Author:Elizabeth Bryan [Elizabeth Bryan Md Frcp Frcpch]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ebury Publishing
Published: 2008-08-07T00:00:00+00:00

11

Queen Elizabeth Hospital, Birmingham

SUNDAY 10 JULY 2005 was Ronald’s seventy-sixth birthday. It was a big day for me too. We celebrated. It was a beautiful clear sunny morning. Frances gave us Holy Communion on our terrace looking across the sunlit valley at the Black Mountains and surrounded by bird song and rather noisy sheep. She had brought Holy Communion to people in many places, but none, she said, more beautiful. The memory of that service sustained me in the dark hours of the next two weeks and beyond.

But conducting the service cannot have been easy for Frances. Just as I, as a paediatrician, have at times found it especially difficult to care for the very ill child of a close friend so, I imagine, must it be difficult to minister to distressed friends, especially when they have abandoned any effort to hold back their tears.

After lunch we drove up to the Pietronis’ home in Shropshire for Ronald’s birthday tea. Patrick was to drive us over to the Birmingham hospital in the evening and Ronald would then spend the next few nights with Patrick and Marilyn while I was in hospital.

A surprise awaited us. We were led into the garden. Hidden among the shrubs was a period piece. Marilyn had created a table that would have won any prize for beauty as well as content. I vividly remembered the impact and atmosphere of this scene but, perhaps partly due to pre-op emotion combined with jaundice, the details were hazy. I asked Marilyn to remind me. This was her reply:

For me too that was a memorable event . . . We had barely moved in (July 7th) and I had just come home after my knee cartilage op! There were also the terrorist attacks in London . . .

The tea party was like an oasis of continuity amidst these threats and changes. Sharpened by the fear of losing you, I remember focusing on what would make a light, pretty and enjoyable tea! The old rusty garden furniture was placed in the spot with the best view of the Shropshire Hills and Coalbrookdale power station, and near a birch glade that offered dappled shade in which you placed yourself, dressed in white, behatted and serene! The tables were covered in my mother’s ancient white lace cloths, the china was Royal Worcester Howard, white with a bright navy band that matched the deep blue glasses for champagne. Lavender and pink rosebuds on the table, with a little Alchemilla mollis as foliage.

Menu: I was playing at an English ethnic tea (having just arrived from France!). Cucumber sandwiches on brown bread, a mousse of salmon trout, crème fraiche and chives, strawberries, meringues and cream. Earl Grey or our favoured dark Yorkshire tea.

Time was running out and we all knew what that meant but had our various treasured memories of the day.

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