Maiden Name : Randle

Date of Birth: 04 / 03 / 1931

Date of Passing: 29 / 08 / 1993

Location : Hucknall, United Kingdom

Relationship: Mother

Epitaph:

"There's always somebody worse off"

Tribute:

My Mum Joan (she was NEVER called Kathleen) Randle was born in 1931 and as far as I know had a normal happy childhood in those pre-war years and had a natural love & talent for dance which she may well have pursued . At the age of 14 she suffered her first epileptic fit , which drastically changed her whole life . Even less was known about epilepsy then than now , and the only treatment was sedative "mind numbing" drugs (barbiturates) , which as the body develops a tolerance over time has to be given in increasing doses , by the time I started work and had access to a medical library I discovered that she was taking 7 times what was required for total 24 hour sedation for the average person - a lethal dose everyday !
Again at that time little was understood about coping with the condition , and I'm sure she must have rebelled against being wrapped in "cotton wool" and so despite the bumps , bruises and other injuries she tried to live as normal a life as possible , which led to her getting married and having a son -me . Again because of the risks (to me) I spent more time being brought up by my Great Aunt & Great Grandmother , so never really developed that close Mother - Son bond , and from a very early age knew that if Mummy fell down I had to call help .
There were many ups and downs over the years , sometimes going two to three years without any fits and on several occasions being hospitalised when they got "out of control" . As I said I was sheltered from a lot of this and was unaware that on one such occasion in the early 60's she was given the last rites - but she bounced back . On another occasion the nurses expressed some concern to my Grandmother that she wasn’t responding to them speaking to her , until it transpired that they’d been calling her Kathleen - which as I said before would have been a complete waste of time .
Her marriage didn't survive the pressures and my Father left us when I was about six or seven , and because of her condition (in those days) she never worked , and so after her divorce we had to survive on benefits , and the support of the family , but we did all right , and I don't think I missed out on much .
She loved her holidays , in various family caravans over the years , and growing up we would be at Chapel St. Leonards ; Easter , Whitsun & the last week in July first week in August ("the Pit weeks") . We also had regular visits to Matlock and trips to Blackpool and Butlins .
She was a prodigious knitter , particularly when I was young , often following hugely intricate patterns , and I was never short of jumpers, cardigans , balaclavas , gloves & scarves & stuff . She was a great fan of the Royal Family and collected magazines and books over the years , and she was keen on her jigsaw puzzles , and after we moved from Butlers Hill to the new council house on Welbeck Estate the extra space gave her a great excuse to move the furniture around on an infuriatingly regular basis , and it wasn’t unusual to come home from school to find a completely different layout to the living room, where single handedly she’d dragged settees , wall units , tables and the TV set into different positions !
She never lost her love of dance and again growing up I always knew that Friday night was dance night at the local Miners welfare , sometimes with my Granddad and later with her friends .
She was a very stubborn woman and as I grew older we frequently clashed with regular arguments and outright rows , usually as I tried to give her good advice , state the obvious , or correct blatant mistakes ; with all the tact and diplomacy of the average teenager ! But there was no reasoning with her and I always got back ....."I'm your Mother - don't tell me what to do" and "respect your elders" etc. etc.
However I know she was intensely proud of me , and what I'd achieved , and I had huge admiration for her determination ; and her attitude towards her illness ; she never felt sorry for herself , never said "why me?" and she was always saying that there were a lot of people worse off than her , and in the 37 years I knew her I never saw her breakdown or cry , despite having good cause on many occasions .
It was the morning of August bank holiday Sunday that we got the phone call from the caravan site that I needed to contact the hospital at Skegness because she’d been admitted by ambulance , and at first I wasn’t too worried as over the years this wasn’t that unusual , but when I spoke to my Grandmother I knew this was different and we had to get over there , she was transferred to Boston and when we got there she was deeply unconscious having suffered a major stroke sometime during the night , whether as a result of a fit or not we don’t know , but certainly linked to the epilepsy and drugs over the years . She almost certainly couldn't hear me but I was able to say a final farewell before we left. She died later that night without ever recovering consciousness .