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Edith Rose Jones
Edith Rose Jones
07/03/1902 - 12/12/93

"Mrs. Edith Rose Jones

Edith was born on the 7th march 1902. She was one of a large family, with hard working parents. Most of her life was spent in the Horfield area, until she met and married Stanley Jones, who was to be a manager of Marks & Spencers. They moved to various places in the south of England, ending up in London in 1936.
At the outbreak of war her boys, Haydn and Glynn, were evacuated and in 1942 her marriage, unfortunately, broke down. After a short time she moved back to Horfield with her sons. From this point on she devoted the whole of her life to the well-being of Haydn and Glynn and later, their wives and families.

She was indeed a strong character, firm in her thoughts and forthright in her speech, never prepared to beat about the bush. She had strength of purpose and where her children were concerned, considerable self denial, particularly during the war years when times for the family were extremely difficult both emotionally and financially. Although separated from her husband Stanley, when he died in 1950, she was broken hearted. The mention of his name, or discussing him, and the past, would bring tears to her eyes, even during her latter years.

She led a hard working, tidy life, preparing always for the final journey, setting her house in order to ensure that her passing would be uncomplicated for her relatives. The material things in life were not important to her; perhaps a lesson for us all.

She was much loved by her sons and their wives and, whilst her son Glynn and
his wife, Shirley, are currently in Ontario, Canada, they are with us in spirit at this moment, sharing our loss.

The last five years Edith has spent in the caring hands of the matrons and staff of St. Peter's Home, Bishopsworth road, where she was happy and content, and although her physical health was declining, her mental state remained as alert as ever, to the last minute of her life.

Although the immediate pain of parting will subside, Edith has left a void which nothing can replace. Her sons, their wives, and her grandchildren will remember her with love and affection.

She is sadly missed."
READING

DEATH IS NOTHING AT ALL; I HAVE ONLY SLIPPED AWAY
INTO THE NEXT DOOR ROOM. I AM I, AND YOU ARE YOU:
WHATEVER WE WERE TO EACH OTHER, THAT WE ARE STILL.
CALL ME BY MY OLD FAMILIAR NAME, SPEAK TO ME IN
THE EASY WAY WHICH YOU ALWAYS USED. PUT NO
DIFFERENCE INTO YOUR LOVE, WEAR NO FALSE AIR OF
SOLEMNITY OR SORROW. LAUGH AS WE ALL LAUGHED
AT THE LITTLE JOKES WE ENJOYED TOGETHER. PLAY,
SMILE, THINK 0F ME AS I ALWAYS WAS. LET IT BE
SPOKEN WITHOUT EFFECT, WITHOUT THE GHOST OF A
SHADOW EVIDENT . LIFE MEANS ALL THAT IT EVER
MEANT. IT IS THE SAME AS IT EVER WAS. THERE
IS ABSOLUTELY NO BROKEN CONTINUITY. WHAT IS
THIS DEATH BUT A NEGLIGIBLE ACCIDENT. WHY
SHOULD I BE OUT OF MIND BECAUSE I AM OUT OF SIGHT.
I AM BUT WAITING FOR YOU FOR AN INTERVAL,
SOMEWHERE VERY NEAR,

JUST AROUND THE CORNER.

ALL IS WELL.


HENRY SCOTT HOLLAND
(1847-1918)
Canon of St. Paul's.

Edith Rose Jones Aged 89 Speaking About 'St. Peter's Home' Where She Lived Until Her Death On 12th December 1993 Aged 91
Edith Rose JonesBefore coming to live at St. Peter's I lived in a warden controlled flat and was quite happy there, although I had angina, which frightened me, and when I suffered a slight stroke I spent a week in Southmead hospital.

My health visitor suggested I may quality for a place in a home as I was very unsteady on my feet and unable to care properly for myself. After a trial run in Wellhay I was asked to attend an interview with my two sons at St. Peters and I was extremely nervous not knowing what to expect. The interview was successful and in 1988 a new stage of my life began, sharing a room with Marge.
Sue was very nice but, unfortunately, became ill and slightly disorientated for a while and needed constant nightly attention which in turn drastically affected my sleep pattern. I was promised my own room as soon as one became available, where I am now, very happy and grateful.

On the 31st January 1955, alderman Gilbert G. Adams, the then Lord mayor of Bristol, laid the first stone of St. Peter's. It is a light modern airy building, built of brick, nice and warm in the winter and plenty of windows to open for the summer. Along the corridors we have hand rails and a lift to the first floor, which we all learn to use. The occasional newcomer goes up and down like a yoyo, much to the amusement of the 'old hands'. I do find the top window in my room a bit high, not being very tall (I seem to have shrunk), and in consequence have to ask a member of staff, already hard pressed, to open or close it.

I look back with a smile at my anxiety before and during my initial interview. The fears I had of regimentation and strict lifestyle were dispelled within a few days. Naturally, for obvious reasons, we have to be in the dining room a few minutes before each meal, as one would in any well run family. The meals are very nice indeed and well balanced. Individual tastes are generally catered for within limitations. It is a home from home situation.

Four people have the 'tricky' job of running our home, three ladies and one gentleman, who tend to our needs with kindness, care and courtesy and yet firmly when necessary. This creates a feeling of respect for them verging on affection.

They arrange many services for us, our every need is catered for. Old age does not come alone it is accompanied by various ailments imagined and otherwise. Doctors, chiropodists, audiologists all visit and an optician is on call.

The administration of medication is very important to old people and is carefully controlled, being part of the caring process - we are not forgotten. Just as well because one elderly lady hid her pills in the salt pot and the staff had to watch her very careful1y. She's dead now!

The weekly visit by the doctor is an important occasion to most of us. Naturally we do not always understand the diagnosis. It is easy for us to misinterpret a sigh or a curt answer to perhaps a silly question.

From tine to time a seat becomes vacant and we learn that we won't be seeing a familiar face any more. It is understood that we could if we wished attend the funeral but most of us feel that going to our own will be quite enough thank you!

Much store is placed in retaining our own chair in tie lounge. Woe betide anyone encroaching on our body space! We guard our cushions with our lives (some of our friends are incontinent).

As in all families squabbles will occur, nothing very serious, nothing physical, although sometimes the onlookers would appreciate a little excitement in this form. If you are fortunate enough to be in earshot of any verbal discord it makes the day a little lighter. It is not unknown by any means to find a resident wielding a wooden spoon and sitting back with the rest of us to enjoy the result - ongoing feuds are the most entertaining.

Those in charge endeavor to include our families in some of the social activities with various levels of success - some of the residents unfortunately do not have many visitors. We had a barbecue this summer of which I was a bit skeptical but it proved to be a great success. Our families were invited to this event, it was a lively warm evening and the staff joined in letting their hair down, much to our delight. There was much laughter and we all had a good time.

Coach outings are organised which are enjoyed by those wishing to participate - I choose not to go on these trips as I worry about my back. However recently my son and the helpers persuaded me to visit my other son in Devon to see his new bungalow and stay for one night. Great care was taken by Jenifer the matron to ensure that I had the correct medication to be taken at the right time, all nicely labeled in jars, which was appreciated by my family. Thank you Jenifer. Whilst it was nice to be with the family in Brixham, I missed my friends, helpers and little room in St. Peter's. It is always nice to come home.

I have a great admiration for those who work at night, floating along the corridors, slipping in and out of the rooms of the senile or incontinent doing the necessary. They also bring supper to those like me who wish to have it in bed and also provide our Steredent tablets.

Our home is a clean home. Despite our ages and ailments there are no unpleasant smells in the corridors or rooms. In the past my family and I had occasion to visit a home in South Wales. The strong smell of urine throughout the building was most apparent - our home is as sweet as a nut! My family are most impressed.

Once a week we have a bath, with help, and fresh bed-linen, but those who are incontinent are washed every night. I must admit I do miss not being able to bath when I want to but of course I am unable to as I need Barbara's help and fit into her work programme.

Every two weeks we have a hairdresser visit us for which we pay a nominal sum ourselves. We recently had a new hairdresser who is excellent.

The people in charge of us have their different personalities which we get to know. They are all very nice in their own ways.

There are many activities too numerous to mention them all that make our lives more interesting, i.e. the availability of newspapers, visitors (family and official), music, singsongs, raffles, jumble sales, church services, dominos, draughts, cards, etc., mid-morning coffee and biscuits, all are available if required, not forgetting the odd glass of sherry. We also have a lovely garden.

The girls are very good; some have more patience and are better than others. This is markedly so in those who train for the city and guilds examinations. Liza and Jackie are particularly good; their approach eventually rubs off on the others. All the staff from the top to the bottom make our visitors feel welcome with a cheery word. The family can come to our rooms and the facility is available to make them a cup of tea should we wish.

We can express our feelings to the staff individually but as a group of very mixed elderly people it is difficult. Some of us do not know how to say thank you. Some of us are incapable of showing our appreciation and do not realise the extent of care given, senility having taken over. Those of us more fortunate should undoubtedly say thank you more often not only in the spoken word but by being pleasant and understanding when we know our carers are under stress.

I would like to finish by saying "Yes, we are at times strange, we can be demanding and sometimes downright rude - we are in the twilight of our years, looking back on success and failure, happiness and sadness, births and deaths, with mixed feelings, wondering about what's to come, but comforted by our surroundings and the feeling of belonging".

St. Peter's, like 'Cadburys Roses', grows on you!

Thank you all and god bless.

Edith Rose Jones (Born 7th March in 1902, Horfield, Bristol.)
     
Comments on this page last updated on 5th April 2014

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