Somewhere over the Rainbow: My Story

By Patricia Foster

My Story, Somewhere Over the Rainbow, is a human and personal story. Patricia's Memoir covers much of her life, and of the Twentieth Century, including the Post War Years, seen from a young person's perspective. This account of her early life is vivid, it will make you laugh, and it will make you cry. The style is conversational, and is all the more credible for it's lack of exaggeration. This is a straightforward story, well told. It tells of amazing Divine Interventions, of Spiritual Guides, Helpers and Guardian Angels, who have accompanied Patricia through every step of her journey. This book will give hope and comfort to the bereaved, the sick and the lonely. Patricia sadly lost her beloved Husband Ken in October 2009, after a very happy marriage lasting 54 years. This book is almost a poem to Ken. But he has never left her, for there isn no death, as her story will prove. This is a moving memorial to a fine man in Ken, a wonderful Husband, Father, Grandfather and Brother.
Gratitude is the heart's memory, and my heart remembers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Aug 3, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456776381

Patricia Foster

Patricia Foster is a true believer in the tenets of minimalism. She was once living in a world where she had to have more than she needed to feel as if she was achieving some goal or was using her earnings to show how much she had. She had the gaudiest house and the fanciest car she could afford. One day she simply came to the realization that she really was stressing herself out more than anything else when she opted to put herself in debt to get all of these things. This is what led Patricia to change and this is what led her to share her journey with others and show them that nothing is wrong with minimalism.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE.

MY LIFE AS A YOUNG GIRL

I must have been about 10 yrs old when I kept getting recurring dreams that I was in a large Church, standing at the Pulpit reading the lesson to the congregation in a foreign tongue. I did not know another language, but I have been told since it must have been Latin. I always loved Churches, I was brought up by my parents to honour God, our Father & Mother, and I regularly attended Sunday School.

I am the eldest of three daughters, me Patricia, Pamela and Edwina, born to May & Ralph Savidge.

My Mother was born in Hampstead, London in 1911, the seventh and youngest child of Venetia Venner (nee Stevenson), who originally came from Warwickshire. Her Father had passed away whilst her Mother was expecting her. She was born with a ‘Caul’ over her face. That is said to be very lucky, it is an extra layer of skin which forms, and would sometimes be given to Sailors going out to sea, for protection. Her Mother eventually remarried, and had one more child, my Uncle John, who will later figure in this story. My Grandmother was a dressmaker by trade, and at one time had a little Dressmakers shop in a Mews in Hampstead. Mum and her Brother John went to local Schools, Mum to an open-air School in Regents Park, because apparently she had a tendency to Tuberclosis. (And she lived to be 96 yrs old!!) and Uncle John eventually passed the 11+ to a Grammar School in Haverstock Hill, in London. But when he later had the chance to go on to further education, my Grandmother couldn’t afford to let him go. Money was very short in those days, unless you were from a wealthy family.

Mum fascinated me with her stories about her family, one of them was about her sister Queenie, age 17, who left the house after an argument and never returned. After much searching, they never found her. They didn’t think there was any foul play, apparently Queenie was a born ‘rebel’, Mum said she probably had a boyfriend in tow with her. But they never saw her again.

My Grandmother Venetia and her Sister Alice were what they called ‘Pedestal Girls’ years ago, and were two of the first Bluebell Girl Dancers before the turn of the century.

Mum used to make us laugh, she told us that years later, when Alice was 70, she could still do the Splits, and Mum’s Mother Venetia would say to anyone watching "Don’t take any notice of Alice, she’s doing her party piece again."

Mum also used to tell me about the Daughter’s of Madame Tussaud, Owner of London’s famous Waxworks. They used to walk to School along the same road as she did. Mum to Regents Park to the Open Air School, and the Tussaud girls to a Private School. She would recall how they were dressed, in long skirts, long black lace-up boots, high necked blouses and Boaters for Hats. I found it fascinating.

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Darling Mum age 25 yrs old, the year before she met Dad

How my Parents met. My Mother used to visit her Aunt in West Drayton, Middx at weekends, because she had been ill, and help her with the housework. One day her Aunt said to her I’ve got a nice lodger I’d like you to meet. His name is Ralph, he has recently left his home in Nottingham as he has lost his Mother and is heartbroken. Dad’s Mother and Father had parted. He was born into an affluent family in Nottingham, where his Father owned the ‘Bulwell Soap Company’, and was a local J.P. His first Cousin was John Player of the Cigarette Manufacturers, and another Cousin was Secretary to Lord Trent, Founder of Boots Chemist in Nottingham. When his parents parted, my Father, the seventh and youngest of the family, chose to go with his Mother, whom he adored. He loved playing Cricket, which Nottingham is famous for. When he was in his teens, he was offered a Trial at Trent Bridge, but he didn’t take it, he wanted to join the Navy. He did so, and was stationed in Malta on Earl Mountbatten’s Training Ship, Ganges.

It was while Dad was on that Ship, he received a message to say his Mother was dangerously ill. He immediately asked for Compassionate Leave, but it was refused, so he ‘jumped’ ship, which sadly resulted in a Dishonourable Discharge. He arrived at the Convent in Nottingham where his Father was paying for her to be looked after by Nuns, but he arrived too late, she had just passed away, at just 59 years old. Dad was inconsolable, so his Brother Jack, who was working as a Sales Manager in Yiewsley, Middx, told him to come and join him, and he would find him a job and lodgings.(Right up until the end of his life, my Dad would talk to me about his Mother). He used to tell me that every night he saw an apparition of her in the corner of the Living Room, and the tears would well up in his eyes. I so admired him for that love. I wish I had known his Mother. She must have been a lovely lady, because he was a good man, educated, strong in word and character, with a great wit. He would always tell us stories about his life with his Mother when he was young, and it was fascinating. Clara, that was her name, was Mediumistic, very much involved in Spiritulism, and whilst holding Bridge parties, would give friends Readings by the technique of Pyschometry (holding an item belonging to them and telling them what she was forming in her mind.) My Father always said I had his Mothers ‘Gifts’. He used to joke and say to me your psychic like my Mother, you need a psychiatrist. The most profound thing I remember Dad saying to me in later years was that if anything ever happened to him, I want to be cremated. Then I want you to take me to Nottingham to where my Mother is buried, and place my ashes with her. Then he would try and make me laugh by saying I don’t care how you do it, just put them in a Tesco Carrier Bag and take me there!. I would laugh and say your not going anywhere Dad. But I knew he was serious, and that I would most definitely follow his wishes when the time came.

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Me with Mum & Dad in my Grandfather’s Garden in Nottingham

When I was about 18 months old, I was taken to meet my Grandfather in Nottingham with my Parents, and I have two nice photographs of us together. I’m sitting on his knee in the garden. But because he passed away when I was very young, I do not remember him. My Dad said he always attended the office of his Company right up until the day he died, in his eighties. Apparently his Housekeeper would start the engine of his car to get it warm in the mornings, and one day he didn’t go out to it as usual. He had passed away suddenly, dressed in his suit ready for the office.

I remember my Grandmother Venetia, my Mother’s Mother vaguely, as I was about 8yrs old when she died, and my Mother’s Father passed away when her Mother was pregnant with Mum. So really I never knew any Grandparents. While looking at some photographs recently of me in my Grandfather’s Garden in Nottingham, you really can clearly see a faint picture of my Fathers face in the walled garden of his Father’s house. You can also see a faint drawing of a Lion. Dad’s Star Sign was Leo the Lion. Strange, but true. I’ve shown it to many people.

My Mother was introduced to Ralph, and because, as my Mum said she felt sorry for him, they started to go out together on the weekends she came to Otterfield Road, in Yiewsley to help her Aunt. Eventually, the ‘feeling sorry’ developed into love, and they got engaged. That was a funny situation of how that happened. Dad had bought Mum a ring and left it in his pocket. He had to go to Nottingham on some family business, so Mum went to the Station with him to see him on the train. Just as the train was pulling out of the Station, Dad threw her a little package, saying, May, I forgot to give you this. It was the engagement ring! That was his proposal!

My Parents Wedding – Mum & Dad’s Wedding in Hampstead, London

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Mum’s Friends at her Wedding

They were married at a Church in Abbey Road, London, the famous Abbey Road where the Beatles Recording Studios were. Mum’s Stepfather couldn’t come because he couldn’t afford to take the day off work, so he just came to the evening reception. Mum and Dad looked so happy on their Wedding Day. I remember Mum telling us that Dad ‘fluffed’ his lines during the Ceremony. Instead of saying with all my worldly goods he said with all my wormly goods. On reflection, if Dad hadn’t been forced to leave the Navy, he would never have met my Mum! Your life is mapped out for you, of that I’m certain.

Not too long after they were married, Dad said he thought he should take Mum to visit his Father in Nottingham. He never spoke much of his life before he went from home at 12 years old with his Mother, to live in another part of Nottingham. They were his happiest years, and memories he often fondly recalled. Mum was happy to go with him, so off they went by train. When they arrived at this large house with a double drive called ‘The Gables’, in Bulwell, Mum was amazed. Dad rang the doorbell, and a Maid in uniform answered the Door. They went into a large hall with a winding staircase, richly carpeted and adorned with beautiful paintings on the walls. They were taken to meet Dad’s Father, whose name was Thomas Atkinson-Savidge. Dad didn’t want the double-barrelled name, so he just used the surname of Savidge. Mum was suddenly completely shy and nervous, she had no idea Dad lived in such splendour. Eventually they were taken to the Dining Room for Lunch, where Mum said a large table was set with more silver cutlery than she had ever seen. A Butler serving, and my Grandfather, wearing a white Alpacer jacket, was carving the joint of meat from a large silver Tureen. My Mother suddenly lost her appetite!, she was so nervous. They eventually sat down to eat, my Grandfather saying to my Mother, Your not eating much May. Mum fibbed and said she wasn’t hungry, she was actually starving, but was just too nervous to eat anything. She said all she could think of was fancy Ralph not telling me how they lived. Dad told her afterwards that if he had done, he knew she wouldn’t have gone there.

They moved into a rented Cottage near Mum’s Aunt in Fairfield Road, Yiewsley, and Dad worked with his Brother Jack. When my Mother fell pregnant with me, she was booked to go into a London Hospital for the birth. But I turned up two weeks early on April Fool’s day, born in the cottage they were renting. Mum used to say I made a ‘fool’ of her, because I was born after 12oclock. My Mother made me laugh when she said the cottage was so old, with creaking floorboards, that one day she was standing at the sink, and fell through the floorboards (she was expecting me at the time). Dad used to say that explains everything!. Luckily she didn’t fall very far. Because I arrived earlier than expected, they hadn’t got anything prepared, and had to make a bed for me out of a drawer! until they had time to buy a Cot. Mum was superstitious about buying anything until the birth. The day I was born, the Duchess of Kent, Marina, also gave birth to a baby girl named Princess Alexandra. They lived locally to us in Iver Bucks, and Mum said it was all over the front page of the local and National Newspapers. Mum was such a Royalist, she loved that. Me being born on the same day. Mum did make me laugh when she said she told her friend but she won’t be any better than my daughter!. I did recently meet her Brother the Duke of Kent in London, near Kensington Palace, when I was with my Son Russell, and I spoke to him about where he lived at the Coppins in Iver, forgetting to mention I was born on the same day and same year as his Sister. He was fascinated to know how I knew where all the family worshipped, in Iver Church, and about their House the Coppins, where they lived for so many years.

I still walk by the cottage where I was born, and visualise my birth there (and Mum falling through the floorboards!). It will always hold a strong affection for me. I noticed recently it was up for sale. I would have loved to ask the Estate Agent if I could look around it.

Mum and Dad then moved to a flat on the Green in West Drayton, and it was a much prettier outlook. My Sister Pamela was born there. Then they were offered a brand new house by the local borough, with farmland all around, and a field at the bottom of the garden where the farmers would plant the corn. They decided to take it, and that was where my Sister Edwina was born. So Dad had got his wish, if he had three Daughters he would name them Patricia, Pamela and Edwina, after Earl Mountbatten’s Children and Wife. His daughters were Patricia and Pamela, and his Wife was called Edwina. (Apparently Dad knew that from when he was on his Flagship Ganges).I can remember during the war, the German Soldiers in captivity were taken to the fields at the bottom of our garden, to work cutting the corn, and I was fascinated. I remember I used to walk to the end of our garden watching them, and my Mother would say Pat, you musn’t talk to them, we will get into trouble. When my Mother told me why they were there, I used to say can’t we give them a cup of tea and a sandwich.

Our parents taught us to love and respect, not to be selfish, to give and not to count the cost. When I was in my early teens, I would often go to visit people my Mother knew who were elderly and lonely, to take them flowers and spend some time with them, and I really loved doing it. I took after my Mum like that. She would say would you like to go and see Mrs. ‘So and So’ and take her these flowers. And I’d walk a couple of miles to go and do it. Both my Parents were kind and caring to everyone, it was people, not possessions that were so important to them. We enjoyed Country Walks, admiring the beauty around us. We were taught to swim in the local Beauty spot which was called ‘Little Britain Lake’, which was at one time a beautiful area, where we had such fun as a family, with picnics, cycling and swimming under the bridge. The water was crystal clear. Now these lovely rivers are polluted, which is such a shame. The children today don’t have that pleasure. It’s Leisure Centres and Swimming Pools. Dad would tell us the names of all the birds, and we loved to hear the blackbirds sing to each other early morning in the garden while we were still in bed. We went to Sunday School, and my Father always taught us the words to the Hymns. At mealtimes, we always said a prayer to God for what we are about to receive, may the Lord make us truly grateful. Television wasn’t around then, but we had the Radio, I can remember rushing home from School to listen to ‘Dick Barton, Special Agent’. My friends at School would say don’t forget Dick Barton is on tonight. And eventually when the first television came out, Dad bought us one, and I remember vividly we all sat watching it, excited and absolutely fascinated. For my 9th Birthday, my Mother had arranged for me to have a party at home. On that morning, she had to go to the Dentist to have a tooth out. But he said because my Mother had ‘Pyorrhea’, which was a nasty Gum condition, she would have to have all her teeth out. He took them all out that day, and he was such a ‘Butcher’, he ripped all her gums. Rather than spoil my birthday, she still carried on with the arrangements for the party, and as she told me one day years later, her gums had to be plugged up with gorse, which was a type of Lint. It was over a year before she could have false teeth, it took that long for them to heal.

Dad always said the Power of this world is Mother Nature. He would familiarise us with all the names of the flowers, and Mum would show us how to press wild buttercups and poppies into the Bible. They were really happy days. I always remember something my Mum said to me years later, when we were walking along. She said look at the lovely blossom on the trees, the wind is going to kill them and they’ll never know the beauty of life. Something I’ve never forgotten.

You just made the most of what you had at that time. If my Mother met anyone in trouble, she would offer them food and shelter in our home. And Dad was quite happy to go along with it, they both had kindness in their hearts. They taught us to care and share, to know the true value of the meaning of life and love. I can remember Barbara, a girl Mum worked with in a local office, who became pregnant, and because she was unmarried, was too scared to tell her parents, who were very strict. Mum tried to encourage her to confide in them, but she couldn’t, so she came to live with Mum and Dad for a few months, then went miles away to one of her relatives to await the baby’s arrival.

Then there was an American couple, friends of my Sister Edwina and her American Husband Rick. Edwina had met and married Rick and moved to the States. They had two lovely children, Richard and Rachael. Rick was stationed at the U.S. Base at Ruislip in Middx until their assignment finished in this Country. His American colleague and his Wife couldn’t have children, and were desperate to adopt a baby, but it was impossible to do so in the States. Mum worked with a very nice young girl called Lesley, who was pregnant, but was intending to have the baby adopted. Mum told them about her, and they were thrilled. Would that be possible? To have the chance to finally have a baby they yearned for. So after happy discussions, it was decided that she would apply to adopt the baby. She was told she would have to reside in England for one year for it to go ahead, so dear Mum & Dad, once again, opened their doors. Mum and I kept them informed of everything (I am not mentioning their names), and finally I received a call from Lesley to say she was in hospital, about to give birth. She finally had a baby girl which she didn’t see, as she didn’t want to change her mind and break their hearts. She was so brave. They never met Lesley. She thought it was best if they didn’t. I phoned them straight away to tell them that they had just become Parents. They were over the moon with happiness, and went straight to the hospital, and took over the loving, feeding and changing,