I woke this morning to the news that Debbie Reynolds had died, just one day after Carrie Fisher. The strain must have been just too much for the aged star. “She’s now with Carrie and we’re all heartbroken,” said her son, Todd Fisher. “She said, ‘I want to be with Carrie’, and then she was gone.”
Debbie wanting to be with her daughter is a nice thought, but what a time their family must be going through. On hearing the news, the lyrics of Ja Rule came to mind:
If pain is truly love,
for my family I die.
R.I.P both mother&daughter.
Manchester this afternoon.
Still dark and satanic.
I like it when Facebook sends me memory notifications of updates I made on that particular date in the past. I rediscover some great things that have slipped from my mind. For instance this one, from my then five-years-old daughter:
Millie’s Nan was impressed at her first attempt to write the nativity story for school: ‘There was once a lady called Mary who had a baby boy. She named him Jesus because she didn’t like the name Jason’.
“How can the dead be truly dead when they are still walking in my heart?”
– Clock Without Hands, Carson McCullers
(The quote is from the book that I’m reading at the moment.)
(The photograph is of my maternal grandparents on their wedding day. I never met my Grandfather, but have always wondered about him. When they were courting, the usual Catholic v Church of England tension was going on within the families, and my Grandfather said he would never marry while his (disapproving) mother was still alive. After she died, they married, but my Gran wore a grey dress instead of a white one out of respect for her recently deceased mother-in-law. I think this quite a dignified and humble gesture on her part.)
A Millie muddle for you:
“Dad, if tomorrow was today, would it be school tomorrow?”