Joan Nelson

At the moment, given the start is nearly upon us (the train leaves in just over an hour), a lot of the focus of the project is on the walk, but the reason behind this whole adventure is of course a very sad one. Although it is only just over a year since my mother passed away it seems both further in the past than that but also at the same time as if it were yesterday. Grief is a crazy thing.

The walk of course is in her honour, and in her memory, for without her, well none of this would have come to pass. For that reason I thought this would be a good time to share the eulogy I gave at her funeral.

Joan Nelson

I am here today to do what no son ever wishes to do, to say good bye to my mother, and also to say goodbye on behalf of my wonderful sisters Sarah and Jane, and our dear father, Roddy.

The Spanish have a saying "Madre solo hay una", which literally means "Mother, there is only one" and sums up the uniqueness of each and every mother. The loss for anyone of the person who brought them into the world is always impossibly difficult, but when that Mother has been loving and kind and generous every day, it is beyond my abilities to truly put those emotions into words.

But I must try and therefore I stand before you today in order to give thanks for the life of my mother Joan Calvert Nelson, and in giving a brief summary of her life, and what she meant to us all try and sum up what a special person she was to everyone who knew her.

Early life

Joan Calvert Nelson was born on the 13 September 1945, a first beloved child to David and Elsa Hill, and a loving sister to her younger brother Charlie, who is here with us today. She had a very happy childhood and I believe was particularly at home on the adventurous holidays organised by her father, up in the wilds of Lismore for example, and never happier than when running carefree on Elie Beach; a place she took us to as children, allowing us to enjoy the same spirit of seaside adventure she had had as a child.

After a successful school career she enrolled in “Atholl Crescent”, Edinburgh College of Domestic Science, and for that we as a family can give thanks for all the wonderful meals that came forth from her well run kitchen. When I say well run, I mean the the military would have something to learn from such efficient organisation... She was also a remarkable seamstress, and my sisters were always resplendent at school and university balls in dazzling creations brought to life on her Viking Sewing Machine.

Her love of beautiful things also included, from an early age, gardening. For as long as I can remember, and regardless of the season, our house was filled with blooms or bouquets which had not only been tended by her, but also tastefully arranged. The rooms outside our house were as cared for and well-looked after as those inside.

Teacher

After graduating with flying colours from Atholl Crescent she became a home economics teacher at Darroch School; she thoroughly enjoyed teaching and was very successful, and by the time she left she had been promoted to Assistant Principal of Home Economics. She was very practical, and that, coupled with her imagination and enthusiasm and the fact she was a great people person, allowed her to achieve results even with the most, shall we say, difficult pupils.

An example of her ability to get the most out of her pupils would be her removal from the cooking curriculum of the staple but frankly unappetising soda scones, which she replaced with the new phenomenon of pizza slices, at that point unheard of in the world of Scottish Home Economics education, but of course much appreciated by her pupils.

Roddy / Mother

Now during all this time, from the later days of school, my mother had been courted, successfully by Roddy Nelson, our father to be. Whilst he was a Herioter and therefore strictly an arch rival to Mother's ferociously Watsonian family, luckily love conquered all, and their love blossomed and led to marriage in 1970. Their courting times and early days of marriage were halcyon ones, and us children have heard tell, in hushed tones, of some fairly late and hectic nights. But then as is the natural order of things, three small bundles of joy followed, Sarah, David and Jane.

With the arrival of Sarah, Mother elected to give up her career as a teacher in order to look after us crowd, and, given her fearsome reputation with the belt, I think there were some miscreants at Darroch pleased with her decision. That said, I think there is no doubt that for the vast majority it was sad news indeed that Joan Nelson was leaving, given her promising career.

As a housewife Mother ran a tight ship, and the house was always spick and span, and despite some fairly lean years she ensured there were always delicious meals to be had. Additionally she was in charge of the holidays and not only were there summer holidays in Elie, but, having always loved Swallows and Amazons as a child, she discovered the Lake District for us.

She was never happier than there in Wainwright country, amidst the gorgeous high fells and in the perfect dry stone walled villages, and for many years our Easter break was in the Lakes; it was her idyll, and we were lucky enough to explore it with her.

Other activities

Even as a house wife Mother was active outside the home, and was, to name a few of her roles throughout the years, Vice President of the Watsonian club, Secretary to the 9th Scout Group, and a volunteer and later head of the Thrift Shop at Watsons. In all these roles she showed the excellent efficiency and organizational skills that she was renowned for.

And apart from these more public roles her personal loves included her keen support for the Royal National Life Boat Institution, and for the Scottish National Trust, and of course her genealogy.

She had always been interested in the history of her family, and became a serious investigator in the mid 90's. Her great folders of family history, the work of scouring countless parish records, would be sufficient for one, if not more, meticulously researched books, and in her hunt she got back to my great-great-great-great-great grandfather, Samuel Calvert, who was born in 1744. Quite a work.

Character

For those who knew her, you will be aware of her strong character, which could also be fairly mischievous. I remember quite near the the start of her illness she was really too weak to get out of the bath, but was keen to have one. Father who was off to work, had discussed it with her, and explained that she would have to wait until he got back to have one.

Mother was later recounting the incident to Jane, and had explained, with an impish grin and a twinkle in her eye, that she had agreed with Father that she would just have to wait, but as soon as he was out of the door she had nipped straight through and into the bath. As she herself said, admittedly she was still stuck there three hours later when he got back for lunch, and was as wrinkled as a prune, but I think she would have told you it was quite worth it. Mother really was not one to be dissuaded when she had her mind set on something.

Illness

So it is with a sorry heart that I must mention her illness. It was only two short years ago that she noticed the first symptoms, but those two years were incredibly hard, and full of all the ups and downs of chronic illness. But Mother was so brave, and so valiant, she never let her head go down, right until the end. She took each setback in her stride, and was an example to us all. Through her illness we had the support of a lot of medical staff, and I would like to say thank you to all of those who looked after her, or had some hand in her treatments, and all our medically trained friends who offered advice and explanations of the treatments she was receiving.

In Conclusion

In summary then our mother was a remarkable lady, and we have much to thank her for. I personally have to thank her for my love of the hills, for the fact I can cook Lasagne without poisoning too many of my dinner guests. Also for the fact that I know far more about my family history than I would have ever have thought possible (or been interested in when she started and I was a surly teenager). And all of us have to thank her for her support, and of course all the shirts ironed, the sandwiches made and the buttons sewn on. The list is never ending.

And now she is no longer here, we are left with many happy memories and I personally like to think she is already in her particular heaven, in which I think you would find her atop the airy crest of Catbells in the Lake District, looking down on the shimmering jewel of Derwent water, free with the wind on her face. And of course there is always the possibility of a gentle potter around a few antiques shops in a quaint village later on, and, maybe, just maybe, a relaxing gin and tonic when evening falls.

Mother dearest it is too soon, but thank you for everything.