General Chat

Thank you Bridget for sharing Mary May with us all. I also feel like I know her! I do understand a little of what you feel like. I found a grave, not far from where I live, of my great x3 grandfather, who I really knew nothing about until I started doing my tree. On an impulse, I went into my local register office yesterday to buy the Death Certificate of the person who's grave it was. Lo and behold, it was the right person, my great, great, great, grandad. I suddenly have the urge to go right back there, take some flowers and pull up those weeds!! My hubby thinks that I am stark raving bonkers!! Maggy

Oh Bridget, If you can't let go of Mary May, how then can she possibly let go of you? Reading your message, it does seem that you and she are entwined. Are you really Mary May? Wherever you go, she will now be part of you. My compooter has been down for over two weeks, and I think I may have missed some of Mary May's story. So anything you printed after the 12th May I won't have seen. Thanks again for sharing Mary May with us. Norah

Hi Bridget I agree with Sandra, you SHOULD write a book. It brought tears to my eyes and made me think about my Grandmother. I know it isn't so far back but she died when I was 15 and since doing genealogy I have found out things about her that I didn't know and I feel closer to her now even than I did when she was alive. I found her in the workhouse when she was 4 with her Mother and siblings and I went to a local workhouse that is run by the National Trust to try and get some idea of how it must have been. She was a lovely lady and I found myself hoping that they had been nice to her. I don't know if my Mother ever knew that her Mother had been in the workhouse, but sometimes she would say how terrible the workhouses used to be, so I wonder if she perhaps knew but didn't want to say. I console myself with the fact that she had a lovely life and 8 children who adored her. Hope you keep on finding out more - I'm sure you will. Cheers Chris

Oh Bridget how beautiful! I think we all feel for you, as we have come to love Mary May as well. I hope this isn`t the last we shall hear of her story. Rebecca

For Barry Dear Barry, What a wonderful but sad and touching story. You say Ann was not an extraordinary person but I beg to disagree. Can you just imagine the prejudice she must have endured having a child outside of marriage in those far off days! What courage Ann showed in keeping and caring for her son John. Had it not been for her determination and spirit 3 more generations would not be here today. I salute Ann; she left one of the richest legacies any woman could leave, life! Somehow I feel she is looking down and smiling knowing she has not left this world forgotten, a simple bunch of flowers has relayed that message to her, well done and God Bless, Bridget.

Bridget,really enjoyed reading about Mary May. It was lovely. Sue

hi Bridget, your words are beautiful and we understand, i keep going back to East Hoathly and Chiddingly in Sussex where my gr gr gran parents originated, and every scrap of info i find, somehow makes them seem closer. you really do have a way with words, you should write a book, and i mean that from the bottom of my heart, take care and i hope you find more sandra

I am loath to leave Cannock! While the beautiful countryside is a great attraction, it is not my main reason for wanting to stay.. In this place lies a great part of Mary May’s life. We have followed her from her modest farmhouse home in Wales, on to Balmoral and her employment as supervisor of Queen Victoria’s dairies and further on to Newmarket, then Warminster and finally Cannock. I do not want to waste one moment, if I leave here we may not get the chance to return! I panic and make up all sorts of excuses to stay! I want to walk in gardens she may have strolled in, look in shop windows she may have looked into, attend a service at the church where she married and worshipped in. I want to touch and hold some object she has held. I have already touched the faded dried up orchid in the Haverfordwest museum which she must have pressed and treasured lovingly. I want to smell the perfume she used, what was it I ask myself, lavender, Lilly of the Valley? She carried the latter in her bridal bouquet, is this clue? Can this be her favourite? I know I am being silly, what is wrong with me? Mary May has taken over my life and become an obsession, how has this come about? She was one of eight children, why not one of the others? Was I drawn to the fact that her life was perhaps more interesting than those of her siblings? I have come to eat, sleep and breathe Mary May. I awake in the long dark night wondering what course of action to take next, will our next spot of research give an even greater insight into her life? I try to reason and chide myself, for heavens sake Bridget, she was Aidan’s Great Aunt, not yours! It makes no difference what I do or say, she is mine, I want her to be mine, I feel I know her better than I do my own G. Grandmother, I am the one who started this with the help of my beloved Aidan. No one can take her away, not now or ever, I feel she will always be a part of me and hold a special place in my heart! I stand back and try to look at things logically. I compare us to folk who have spent many years’ methodically and painstakingly researching their families. Indexing, crosschecking and such words come to mind. I am ashamed and and feeling guilty when I realize almost none of these applied to us. From the moment we opened that dusty old journal I just knew I had to know more about this woman. We went, we looked, and found, it was there waiting for us. We cannot take credit for having “done a good job” If I am honest, I thought the word genealogy applied to men digging up old rocks!! That’s how experienced this old pair were. I am persuaded to return home when I am reminded we are due a visit from my son who is coming from Texas. Lots to do in the house and garden in preparation for his visit. I console myself by clutching the sheaf of papers we have photocopied at the library. I will study them Mary and learn more about the lives of you and Ingram Clarke. For now, good-bye Mary, good-bye Cannock, we will be back, I promise. Love Bridget.