My Aunt Dorothy died three days ago. She was the twin of Ken and one of the nicest people you could meet. Aged 90, she had suffered from memory loss for a long time and eventually refused food, dying peacefully.

In the photograph she is in the middle, between her mother and my mother. Her full name was Dorothea Rosa Lenton. She never married, spending much of her life looking after her mother at their home in Hall Road, Norwich, following the death of her father in the mid-50s. Outside her home, she made the biggest impact at Norwich School – then a boarding school –  where she was a dearly-loved matron for many years.  I was very fond of her. I don’t think she had an unkind bone in her body.

Her death leaves only two of her seven siblings left alive – Kathleen and Paul, both in their 80s and both living in Norwich.

PS  Since writing this I’ve discovered that the picture was taken at the wedding of Jonathan and Dorothy (Jonathan is my cousin) in 1960.

Dorothy was the inspiration for this poem, which I wrote a few years ago after visiting her at Coltishall Hall Residential Home. She later moved to Cringleford.

COLTISHALL HALL

Your angel
has a fine time of it
standing at your corner room
mixing his holiness
with yours

while the winter sun
blazes low beyond the gate
lighting garden
and tree

I feel him there
filling your room and beyond
changing
the nature of things
through his presence

My angel
greets him wryly
like one who draws
the short straw

remembers the hills I fall off
the desires
the boat
the dark water

sighs, then smiles
when he sees me slip
my fingers through
your angel