Had the funeral today ... seemed to go well..
Celebrating
The Life
of
Jan Sewell
Mother,
Grandmamma,
Peta Jan
Passed away peacefully on
Monday 11th
December 2017
90 years young.
Order of Service
Funeral
Friday 5th
January 2018
at
Llanelli Crematorium
11:00 a.m.
THE PINACATE TALE;
TAMARA WAS SITTING IN THE CIRCLE OF THE SILVER ONES. HER LONG, GOSSAMER HAIR FRAMED HER FACE. HER EMERALD GREEN EYES DREAMING AS SHE STRETCHED OUT HER HAND AND FELT THE GENTLE TOUCH OF THE WINGS OF A BEAUTIFUL BUTTERFLY.
SHE LOOKED AROUND AND SAW KNOWLEDGEABLE EYES WATCHING HER.
IT WAS A SIGNAL…….
GRACEFULLY SHE STOOD UP AND THE BUTTERFLY FLEW AHEAD OF HER ACROSS THE SEA OF CORTEZ NEAR THE PINACATE MOUNTAINS. SHE DANCED OVER GENTLE WAVES UNTIL SHE REACHED THE GOLDEN BEACH WHERE MAMMA JAN WAS SLEEPING. ……
TAMARA’S FEET ONLY TOUCHED THE GRAINS OF SAND, MAKING NO NOISE…..
HER FINGER SMOOTHED THE CHEEK OF THE CHOSEN ONE……
“IT’S NOT TIME YET” SHE WHISPERED ……..LETTING THE BUTTERFLY SETTLE ON THE HAND OF THE CHOSEN ONE.
TAMARA RETURNED TO THE WAVES, DANCING FROM ONE SILVER TIPPED RIPPLE TO ANOTHER………HOLDING THE BUTTERFLY GENTLY IN HER HAND.
TURNING BACK TOWARDS THE SLEEPING ONE SHE SAID: “YOU WILL ALWAYS BE WITH YOUR LOVED ONES WHENEVER A BUTTERFLY LANDS BESIDE THEM -----THEY WILL ALWAYS KNOW THAT YOU ARE THERE.”
A BRIGHT GREEN LIGHT FLASHED IN THE SKY. TAMARA HAD RETURNED TO HER BELOVED MOUNTAINS TO SIT AGAIN WITH THE WISE ONES.
SO WHENEVER YOU SEE A BUTTERFLY, PLEASE THINK OF JAN. LOVING YOU.
THIS WAS WRITTEN BY MY MOTHER, JAN SEWELL ……. WHILE AT PAUL AND MY BEACH HOME IN MEXICO, ON THE WEDNESDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS DECEMBER, TWO THOUSAND AND TEN
SHE CALLED IT THE “PINACATE TALE,” A RANGE OF MOUNTAINS, THE PINACATES, NEAR THE MEXICAN OCEAN, THAT WAS FAMED FOR FAIRIES AND SPRITES AND OTHER….. SPECIAL AND FANTASTICAL CREATURES……
Thank you all for coming this morning to help the family to celebrate the life of Jan Sewell and thank you all for the messages of sympathy and condolences that we have all received….
WINIFRED JOAN SEWELL – born 9th June 1927..
She hated the name Winifred.
She never used it, and whenever it was called, by the doctor or Pharmacy, she would delight in telling the story of how she was named after a rich Great Aunt Winifred in the hope that some of the wealth would be passed on to her as a namesake – and how it totally failed to happen….
So Winifred was never used - “Little Winnie Weston – Hasn’t got a vest on”
She was a Shropshire lass, born in Brosely but brought up in Bridgnorth where Chrissie and I remember her at the family home – built and carved out of the red sandstone of the biggest geographical feature of the area – High Rock.
And so we have chosen to sing “Rock of Ages” in memory of those early days, walking through the woods – we the first generation of many to learn how to swing a stick at the weeds and brambles, shouting “Off with their head”…
ROCK OF AGES:
Rock of Ages
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save from wrath and make me pure.
Let me hide myself in Thee;
Let the water and the blood,
From Thy riven side which flowed,
Be of sin the double cure,
Save from wrath and make me pure.
Not the labour of my hands
Can fulfil Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.
Can fulfil Thy law’s demands;
Could my zeal no respite know,
Could my tears forever flow,
All for sin could not atone;
Thou must save, and Thou alone.
While I draw this fleeting breath,
When my eyes shall close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown,
And behold Thee on Thy throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.
When my eyes shall close in death,
When I rise to worlds unknown,
And behold Thee on Thy throne,
Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee.
Early days were not always easy.
She trained as Nurse and Teacher leaving home to study in Bristol.
Upon a railway station she met a Glaswegian PTI in the RAF – stationed in Bridgnorth. One day, having invited him to tea with her parents, she proudly showed off her piano skills in the back sitting room – not knowing that he was a virtuoso on the instrument having played professionally from the age of 14. He did not let on until much later….. She always enjoyed her piano – and one of her later regrets was that there was no place to “tinkle a few bars” as she went from room to room after she left Albert Street.
Moving to Glasgow, things did not improve. With both children under 2 years old, Eric caught Tuberculosis, and was confined to the sanatorium – where in those days there was slim chance of complete recovery…
One of the earliest cases successfully treated with the new antibiotics he continued in his work with the Empire News and soon they traveled to London moving into the exciting world of Fleet Street.
And exciting it was – from the travels around the world to the move to the Daily Mail as Parliamentary Correspondent, placing her into the world of the House of Commons, the glamorous, celebrities, the politicians of the world, and royalty.
Always ready with a smile and charm, they worked the room like professional hosts. Several parties at Park Grove saw numerous prime ministers, statesmen, TV and radio personalities, the Rich and Famous attending. Christine and I were to be seen (briefly) and not heard. We were introduced, we said hello and shook hands and were required to retire to our rooms – Those were not the days of family style gatherings….
Breaking into TV and Radio – it was Eric and Joan….. Always recognizable – she immaculately dressed with a distinct blaze of white in her hair -
Sadly, following an accident and head injury, that life changed and leaving London - Sewell of the Severn – self employed journalist came into being with Joan supporting and at one time driving him all around the country.
They moved from Bristol back to Brosely – a full circle for Joan and for the last years she was devoted as he failed in health. He said that he would come back as an eagle or a hawk and many is the time we have seen him watching over us …. She thought maybe she too would soar in the skies
They had great memories – traveling with the family, traveling with business, rubbing shoulders with Movie stars – she never told me all the truth about her evening with Yul Bryner…
– and music was always a great part of that life.
In particular – she loved Leonard Cohen – even the way I played it – and one of her favourites was Hallelujah…
HALLELUJAH
A new stage of life occurred after the death of Eric in August 1986.
Joan became Jan – as simple as that. She moved to Llanelli and loved her house in Albert Street with her garden, her walk to town, her trips to the beach. But above all, she had Kenneth.
Kenneth Wolstenholme, “they think it is all over” – war hero, sports commentator, after dinner speaker, celebrity golfer – they traveled the world, were wined and dined, feted and feasted. They secretly got engaged but she never quite forgave him for buying a house in Devon without asking her, and she was reluctant to leave Llanelli – so he remained a regular visitor in the town.
But traveling to Italy for Football, all over the World for Celebrity Golf tournaments or just dinner in the best restaurants she retained her role as charming support for him in every company.
And amongst their traveling, they loved America. And even more so when it became clear that Christine and Paul were going to get married. She would always talk about meeting the “Silver Fox” Paul ….
And during all this time she was writing her poetry –mainly for her own pleasure, occasionally being published, and occasionally as special gifts to people that meant a lot to her…..
Paul…. The Silver Fox
MAY 1993 -
While dating Christine, now my wife of 20 years, JAN came over from the UK to stay with her daughter for a few weeks.
During this time, Christine and I had planned to go to a Country & Western Dance at a local Bar.
When I came to pick up Christine, I wore what I am now wearing. The door bell buzzed and to my surprise, JAN answered the door…
She stood at the door and looked me up and down and said ..
“My My – I have finally met my Silver Fox.”
With that – we became very close – with a shared love of Christine…
She wrote this in May 1993..
SILVER FOX
Out of the shadows
He walked tall, in Stetson
Steel Grey Hair
And magnetic eyes
Infectious smile
Seductive Voice
Heeled boots trod soft
On pale grey carpet
In the mellow glow
A softly lit room
Energy abounded
Filling the scented air
With scintillating shards
Of electricity
She stood, golden brown, glowing
In vivid patterned cotton
A foil for the rugged masculinity
Of Paul
-o0o-
Joan, Jan, Mama Jan…
She loved her grandchildren and great grandchildren
She had a huge imagination and never forgot her own personal child within.
When Susie was expecting for the first time, she decided that she would never be a Nanny or Nan, a Granny or Gran or even a Grandma – She would be a Grandmama!!! I am sure that she envisaged herself in a Victorian Parlour, sitting in a high back chair with a silver topped walking stick – surrounded by attentive children…
From turning the Clock to the wall so no-one knew when bedtime was, to cardboard box beds for dolls with handmade dresses.. the poorly shawl for days when young ones felt unwell, dressing up and makeup… and walks in the woods …. And of course – “chopping their heads off”
And then the next generation and she re-invented herself again, inspired by the native American stories she became Peta Jan – and captivated another generation. And Peta Jan completed a full circle – for Peta Loutha is Greek for Butterfly – she did not know that when she chose it
Sadly, she now was restricted to her high back chair – but loved to have the family around her – perhaps the reality to the Grandmama image ….
She was able to move around less and less and hated it – and allowed herself “one moan a day” I would have let her have more ….
She loved her flat in Plas y Mor, and could never get over the kindness and caring of the staff – though she never once went to the day room – which she said was full of “old people” – she loved the view over the fields, the Church Steeple, and watching the doves on the balcony, and wrote poems for many of the staff.
She also wrote to others who were special to her..
Bunnie – The Balcony
She loved her grandchildren and great grandchildren
She had a huge imagination and never forgot her own personal child within.
When Susie was expecting for the first time, she decided that she would never be a Nanny or Nan, a Granny or Gran or even a Grandma – She would be a Grandmama!!! I am sure that she envisaged herself in a Victorian Parlour, sitting in a high back chair with a silver topped walking stick – surrounded by attentive children…
From turning the Clock to the wall so no-one knew when bedtime was, to cardboard box beds for dolls with handmade dresses.. the poorly shawl for days when young ones felt unwell, dressing up and makeup… and walks in the woods …. And of course – “chopping their heads off”
And then the next generation and she re-invented herself again, inspired by the native American stories she became Peta Jan – and captivated another generation. And Peta Jan completed a full circle – for Peta Loutha is Greek for Butterfly – she did not know that when she chose it
Sadly, she now was restricted to her high back chair – but loved to have the family around her – perhaps the reality to the Grandmama image ….
She was able to move around less and less and hated it – and allowed herself “one moan a day” I would have let her have more ….
She loved her flat in Plas y Mor, and could never get over the kindness and caring of the staff – though she never once went to the day room – which she said was full of “old people” – she loved the view over the fields, the Church Steeple, and watching the doves on the balcony, and wrote poems for many of the staff.
She also wrote to others who were special to her..
Bunnie – The Balcony
The Balcony
You promised me a balcony,
And helped my dreams come true.
We sat together side by side
And talked of “What to do”
You had your dreams A brand new world
And bravely faced the task
To sail away And make a life
From what e’er The world would ask
And now my darling Bunnie
You do not sit with me
You found the life With your true love
Rather far away
But I still fill a glass or two
and raise a toast to you
For you are always here by me
On our balcony...
My glass is full I raise a toast
To your new family
To the lovely girl Who sat by me
Upon our balcony
-o0o-
She had her lucky cork, Dor was passed on to the next generation of travelers, she taught us how to find lost items by putting a pin into the arm of the chair and wrapping cotton around it – and most recently she had the Vollsanger Coin for luck.
She knew what she wanted She was surrounded by love – and she expressed her own feelings to all those around her
and she knew what she wanted for this day
She wanted me in a kilt
She wanted Paul in the black clothes and a Stetson – her Silver Fox
She wanted no-one in somber clothes – to be happy at her passing
She wanted to be an eagle or hawk with Eric
She wanted to be a Blue Bird with Kenneth
She said she would be a butterfly with us all –
when you see a butterfly – remember and smile
She wanted the pipes to play as she moved from here to the great adventure that may await…
She knew what she wanted She was surrounded by love – and she expressed her own feelings to all those around her
and she knew what she wanted for this day
She wanted me in a kilt
She wanted Paul in the black clothes and a Stetson – her Silver Fox
She wanted no-one in somber clothes – to be happy at her passing
She wanted to be an eagle or hawk with Eric
She wanted to be a Blue Bird with Kenneth
She said she would be a butterfly with us all –
when you see a butterfly – remember and smile
She wanted the pipes to play as she moved from here to the great adventure that may await…
And the pipes will play the Dark Isle.
Chrissie tells me that this was the first tune that our father played on the piano for her.
She named her house in Albert Street “Yr Ynys Ddu” the dark (or black) Isle …. It was always dear to her…
The Black Watch Pipes and drums
-o0o-
"Are we nearly there yet?"
Red phone box on the horizon.
Pristine green grass with roses of every colour and scent
Skyscraping lilandie trees line the path
doors leading to warmth and love.
Pantry filled with jams and goodies waiting to be savoured.
Warm apple pie scents the air yearning for squirty cream.
Walking sticks at the ready, time to go.
Down a path, over a style, through a kissing gate.
Inquisitive cows approach bringing small pangs of fear.
But she defends and marches on leading the way.
Windswept hair and rosy cheeks, feet a little sore.
Home beckons.
A warm glow emits from the large yellow shade, shinning on baby dolls wrapped in butter trays. Baths filled with magic bubbles taller than trees.
Cozy bed with freshly ironed sheets invite the guest to blissfully dream of adventures passed.
Love from our Grandmamma which keeps us warm through the night.
Thank you all for coming and supporting us
A special thank you to Côr Curiad for singing and Erin for the Solo
and Craig Oldham for playing
If you wish to join us for refreshment you are welcome at the house… Thank you all..
Rest Well!!
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