The Difficult Room

Go on admit it, we all have a room that at times looks like this, its oozing with character! I’m not prepared to say where the photo was taken but it reminds me of a lady I once knew. She was a member of one of my previous churches who I enjoyed going to visit as she always had a good story to tell and happened to be a ballerina in her day. I had the privilege of conducting her funeral. I wrote the eulogy in a very different way on that occasion taking the part of one of the children. I hope you enjoy, I certainly did.

The Difficult Room

I liked going to visit Auntie, she didn’t seem to be like other grown ups. I’d wait for her to come back from work after my tea to see her glide like a ballerina down her drive. I know she worked at Liverpool Council in a grey dreary office, but I always imagined her as a dancer, pirouetting between her desk and her filing cabinet. The door was always open for me, my brother and our friends. Auntie was always busy, busy doing nothing really but that was just how we liked her. Best of all was when she was busy doing nothing with us. We talked about all sorts and about nothing, but somehow it felt good. And Auntie never forgot our birthdays.

As I said Auntie was not like other grown ups. Apart from spending time with us children the radio would be on, the telly never seemed to interest her. Then there were her friends the birds that she used to feed and watch out of her kitchen window. She would go of to listen to music in Liverpool with her best friend Bettie. They would go on wonderful holidays and when she explained them to us afterwards it was as if we had gone ourselves.

Auntie collected lots of things in her house but could never part with anything. Books were piled up to the ceiling one on top of another. The house was full in every room but there was one room that was fuller than most, auntie called it the difficult room. I suppose she called it that because she always found it hard to tidy. It didn’t matter to us because the difficult room was our favourite and we would spend hours in there. Sometimes exploring and finding treasure long lost. Other times we would go on an adventure to places we had never been before.

Perhaps we liked the difficult room the best because you got closest to Auntie in that room, with all the memories that she had collected from her travels and life. I think every house should have a difficult room, and every child have an Auntie like mine.



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