When I was 10 in 1967 my grandmother, Kate Watson, nee Loughborough, died. She was 84 and had been ill for quite a long time, finally passing away in a care home, probably with dementia, outside North West London. I didn't go to the funeral, but I have memories of a plaque to Kate in Breakspear Crematorium, Ruislip, but I visited recently, spring 2015 and the plaque had been removed, probably after fees lapsed in the mid-seventies.
I often visited the crematorium as a child after Sunday School, with my parents. I was fascinated to know that her maiden name was Loughborough, and that she was the devoted wife of James Sedcole Watson, who had died over 25 years earlier. My father was only 14 at the time, so I often tried to imagine what it must have been like for him growing up without a father. The name Sedcole fascinated me.
This is my story.
I often visited the crematorium as a child after Sunday School, with my parents. I was fascinated to know that her maiden name was Loughborough, and that she was the devoted wife of James Sedcole Watson, who had died over 25 years earlier. My father was only 14 at the time, so I often tried to imagine what it must have been like for him growing up without a father. The name Sedcole fascinated me.
This is my story.
Alice and I, just so you know what I look like!