Aunty Chris
Last week my sister phoned to tell me that Aunty Chris had died, she was 85 years old. She wasn't my real Aunt just a good friend of my Mum's. When I was small I loved visiting her house, it smelt so nice, she used to dry apple rings which were delicious. Her house was full of books. She was the library for my Mum! For us too when we were older. If you put her full name, Christine Trollope, into Google you will see that she translated an awful lot of Freud's works. She also translated French books too. She spoke 10 languages and wrote some of her own stuff. She encouraged me to write poetry and showed one of my plays to the manager of the Swan theatre in Worcester! I remember she would work on the floor surrounded by books and dictionaries. Having done some translating myself I know how there is never enough room on a table! She was never pretentious and we were always welcomed into her home. In her final years she had Alzheimer's so that wonderful person was lost. This is my little memorial to her. I'm glad that I knew her.