Stuart Evans is my Mum's cousin's son. That would make him my third cousin, or something! However, Mum's cousin (Uncle Len) was more like a brother to her and that is why we call him Uncle Len.
Len was married to Chris, and they had two children - Stuart and Angie. Chris died in her 30's, of liver cancer, and Len then met and married Ann, a lady with twin daughters, Janet and Helen.
Still with me?
Len and his family have been around all of my life. We spent some holidays with them in Hampshire, when his work in HM Customs took him down south for some years. I can remember going to visit them when they moved back up North, to Formby. I vaguely remember being a bit scared of Auntie Chris cos she made us take our shoes off to go in the house! After Chris died, my mum would have them over for lunch on Sundays.
Len's father - Joe - was my Nana's brother. A lovely man. Unfortunately, he lost his wife, Alice, to whom he was devoted, quite early in life. Alice died of lung cancer in her 50's. Uncle Joe lived alone from then, and used to spend weekends with our family in Rainhill. Uncle Joe was good fun and always had a smile on his face and a tale to tell. I can still smell his roll-up ciggies now! He had a sharp brain and would spend hours trying to teach me how to do cryptic crosswords. I never did get it. He and Mum would play Scrabble together until the early hours. If I ever joined in, I'd usually get beaten, and more often I'd just get fed up because they were SO competitive and would never let anything "illegal" go. Picture the scene: Mum's dining table, the Scrabble Board (deluxe version, of course) a couple of wine glasses, a brimming ashtray and a giant Collins English Dictionary. Happy memories.
Uncle Joe died in about 1996. He'd moved to live with Len before he died, once he got older and a bit frail.
That is Stuart's family... part of my family.
Stuart died in December last year. It was sudden and shocking. He had moved, years ago, to live in Coventry and when Len and Angie could not get in contact with him by telephone, they contacted his friend who could also not get an answer when he called at the house. The police were contacted (Angie is a police officer) and Stuart was found dead in his home. He'd had a massive duodenal ulcer which had burst. Len, Ann and Angie are devastated.
Stuart was cremated in Coventry just after Christmas, and yesterday, we went to his memorial service and scattering of his ashes in Liverpool. The service was short, but poignant. His sister, Angie, read a beautiful tribute. I was surprised by two things: how she had the courage to read out such a personal eulogy in front of us all, and how very close she and her brother were. But then, I never knew Stuart (or Angie really) as an adult. Last I remember of him is as a georgeous (and slightly bratty) kid with platinum blonde curly hair.
Sleep peacefully, Stuart.
