Suzy Says

The next entry in the saga is an appropriate way to send off the Month of Death. I delayed in posting it because I was totally taken aback to discover that it was written on August 18, 1991 – 10 years to the day before Dad died. And I couldn’t bring myself to post it on the scheduled date of Friday, August 18, 2006. Five years passing doesn’t make his passing any easier.

Wimbledon, England, August 18, 1991

Flight arrived and left on time. Cleared Customs in minutes, and having no checked baggage [those were the days!] I was in no time among the hordes of people waiting to greet the arrivals. The two faces I was anxiously seeking were nowhere to be seen. It was so unlike Dad and Margaret to be late that I wondered if I had given them the correct date and time of my arrival. While I was wondering, a policeman and policewoman ran by, chasing a young man who they subsequently caught. By that time, I had found Dad and Margaret among the crowds trying to get into Gatwick, trying to park at Gatwick, and trying to meet people at Gatwick.

Dad had the tail end of a cold/flu and looked a little pale. He seemed to perk up during the day and was almost well by the end of the day. We were so happy to see each other that I can’t help thinking it was part of the cure!

It was a beautiful, sunny day, warm but not hot, with a fresh, light breeze. The house at Wimbledon is already like a second home to me. I was delighted to see how Dad’s study had changed since my last visit and the arrival of his things. I renewed my acquaintance with old friends I hadn’t seen in years – carved elephants from Africa, a train model in cast iron from Dad’s childhood, a lovely vase that had belonged to Grammie [Dad’s mother] – all these things reappeared. It is now the perfect place for Dad to work. [Though technically retired, he edited an international journal, Ecotoxicology, until his death, and also participated in and/or chaired international meetings held by bodies such as the World Health Organization. He was scheduled to chair a meeting in Germany three weeks after his death in 2001.]

The grandfather clock is in the living room. The Wedgwood salad servers and dish were out in the kitchen, having been used for a recent dinner party. [I inherited all of them, along with Grammie’s ivory-handled silverware and fish set.]

After unpacking and cleaning up, we had lunch on the stone-flagged patio outside the living room and then drove to a beautiful old house [!] with Adam interiors called Syon Park. It has a long history, including being the place where Catherine Howard was imprisoned and Jane Grey agreed to become Queen.

It is a remarkably lovely house and beautifully designed, but the rooms are at once ornate and chilly. The only room I can imagine actually living in is the delightful Long Gallery, which was designed for the ladies to repair to after dinner, while the men smoked cigars and drank port and told naughty stories. A door, cleverly concealed as a trompe i’oeil bookcase, leads to the garden, and another concealed door leads to a small private room for intimate conversations.

Syon House also has a grandfather clock which is the carefully restored twin of our own. Unfortunately, the gentleman who repaired it works exclusively for the Duke of Northumberland [Syon’s owner]. I believe that the Duke and his family still live there, as the upstairs is closed to the public.

We finished our visit to Syon with a visit to the Garden Center. Grammie’s gardening blood has come out in Dad with a vengeance; it seems he’s always there fussing or pruning or planning. [Just days after his funeral, the plants he had ordered for the autumn arrived.] He’s so happy, and that makes me happy, too.