Mum passed away on Thursday 21st January 2021.
She had been diagnosed with Covid a week before, and had quickly lost strength.
Mum was 94 years old when she died, so she had had a long life. Unfortunately for the last many years she had had a long struggle with illness.
She died peacefully and pain free, in her own lovely room overlooking the beautiful garden at Clovelly House where she lived, surrounded by her plants and paintings, and comforted by one beloved grandson, who was able to be with her till the end.
The rest of the family were not able to be with her because of Covid, but we were at her virtual bedside via a video link.
We all spoke to her and told her we loved her, and we all got to say goodbye.
Just a few words about mum.
She was an attractive, stylish, bright and creative woman – artistic, well read, with a very open mind on many topics, but a cultural outlook firmly grounded in the European intellectual traditions of classical music, philosophy, arts and literature.
Mum had lots of interests and was a talented amateur artist. She also wrote beautifully.
Until her sad illness twelve years ago, mum had many friends with whom she liked to play scrabble and visit museums, theatres and galleries – she was passionate about art and poetry and loved Shakespeare.
She attended classes in philosophy and was a long term practitioner of Tai Chi.
Mum inherited the Mandl gene! She never learned to drive (she did try, but never got the hang of it) and was physically timid and risk-averse all her life. But she took risks with her intellect, and delved bravely into psychology and psychoanalysis.
She also jumped in head first marrying my dad. Their relationship was stormy and difficult from the start, and ended in a messy and acrimonious divorce. Mum never married again, but had boyfriends including the lovely Caesar whom I will always remember with fondness and affection.
Mum was born in Germany, into a secular Austrian Jewish family, and grew up in the midst of the most terrible period in modern European history - the holocaust. She and her immediate family were lucky enough to escape to England when mum was 10 years old - her father Ati’s skills as an engineer were in high demand and he managed to secure work for the English firm Vickers.
Ati was able to sponsor many other family members to join them in Sheffield, but they could not save everyone.
Within a few years, her eighty-four year old paternal grandmother was murdered at Auschwitz, and her aunt at Theresienstadt concentration camp.
Like so many survivors of that period, mum never forgot and never got over the trauma. My grandmother “Nana” was understandably enormously protective and mum, as the youngest child, grew up particularly sheltered and fearful. She rebelled, in her way, by moving away from the family home in Sheffield to London and by marrying dad, to the shock and distress of her parents who saw taking a German partner so soon after the war as an outrage, although they did come to accept dad and understood that he and his family had also been victims of the Nazis.
Like her own mother, Nana, mum was super-cuddly and warm with little children – she was the perfect comforting and loving presence when I was a child, and I know her grandchildren feel the same. She had a tragically difficult relationship with her older daughter (my sister L). Mum struggled desperately to understand her and to help her, but she couldn’t save her, and I am afraid that broke her heart.
Mum hated injustice and abhorred violence. She was a pacifist and a Socialist all her life.
Although she won a scholarship to Oxford she lacked self belief. Like so many women, she suffered from imposter syndrome and a feeling that her value lay in her looks rather than in her intellect or intelligence, and inevitably this sapped her power and confidence.
Mum worked as a secretary and as an assistant to psychotherapist Dr. Caron Kent, and later became a probation officer. She retired at fifty five to concentrate on art, philosophy, friends, travel and family.
She had a very close relationship with her beloved brother and sister, and was devastated when they passed away. She never really recovered from the loss.
Mum was much loved by her grandchildren, nieces and nephews, and great-nieces and nephews, and inspired us all with her creativity and natural style, and with her intellect.
She inspired in me a love of books and the imagination, and her wide and often unconventional reading and cultural knowledge/interests kindled my enduring interest in subversive art and politics.
She also had a natural flair for colour. Her welcoming home was always a bright and painterly place, full of beautiful pictures, and ceramics she’d picked up on her travels.
I am so glad that mum’s life ended in peace and comfort.