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Thursday 8 March 2018

Mother and Holy Water

I haven't written much about my late mother.  She died in 2003 after a battle with cancer.  Mother was a complicated character.  She did a lot of damage to me before she died, in all sorts of ways, but she did her best to be a good mother.  The background she had was also complicated.  My father was a regular in the Army and managed to get postings where nobody told him what to do, which is pretty remarkable, but my mother's family were the real elite members of the awkward squad. 

Mother was incredibly generous, awkward, tolerant, volatile, determined, intolerant, rebellious, tough, conformist and above all inconsistent.  When I was writing about Holy Water a few days ago I remembered this story.  I checked with my brother and it is entirely consistent with mother's character and as far as we can tell it's true, but it was in the late seventies and looking at Google maps I'm not sure how it was possible. 

Please don't judge mother, and please don't judge me.  It's complicated.  Mother's four grandparents did not share religious backgrounds.  One was Church of Wales, one was Catholic, one was a low Church Bible thumper and one was a medium.  Mother generally didn't approve of spiritualists but had quite strong second sight when she chose to use it and good instincts.  She was quite fierce condemning Catholics and especially grumbled about birth control but she was grandchild number 46 in a large and sprawling family.  However, while she was grumbling about Catholicism, her best friend was Catholic.  Mother had a large divide between the general and the particular.  She may grumble about general Catholic stuff but she was pretty respectful of individuals. 

Mother had an elderly friend who was a devout Catholic.  When she heard that mother was thinking of taking me and my brothers out for a trip to Holywell in North Wales the friend asked mother if it was possible to bring back some Holy Water from St Winefride's Well.  Now, in general mother would mutter darkly about superstition and idolatry but this was for someone she liked so of course she was willing to go to St Winefride's Well. 

We took the bus out.  I remember it as being a lovely, sunny summer's day but not too hot.  The bus was a rambling local bus service that went from Chester (though it could have gone from Wrexham) and stopped at every stile.  We had a little walk around Holywell and then approached the church.  I remember that the church was down some country lanes and not very well marked, but I could be mistaken, as it would have been 1980 at the latest.  However I think mother was feeling awkward by the time we got to the door.  She decided that the children should wait outside while she braved the dangers of an unfamiliar denomination.  The person on the door, I think it was a gentleman and I seem to remember that they were very nice, wouldn't let mother in unless she covered her head, a very reasonable request for a Catholic shrine at the time. 

Looking back, this was never going to go well.  Mother had an independent mind and didn't like being told what to do.  She was very clear.  She was not covering her hair, she didn't have a scarf and she didn't have a hat.  The doorkeeper suggested that she put a handkerchief over her head.  Mother snapped 'how unhygienic!' and stormed off. 

The next bit I remember quite clearly and it is entirely within mother's character but I wonder if I've imagined some of it.  I remember that the spring from the well came out through the stone work and into an enclosure surrounded by iron railings and falling through a grid or drain.  I don't remember it being labelled but also I don't remember doubting that it was water from the Holy Well.  I remember mother rinsing out a bottle that I remember as being a bottle of water, like evian or something, but I'm not sure that they were around in the late seventies and it could have been a small fizzy pop bottle.  She didn't tip the rinsings down the well, she tipped them into the nearby verge.  Then she filled the bottle with purloined Holy Water and we went back to the bus stop.  I have no idea of how her friend received a re-used drinks bottle filled with Holy Water. 

 So that was mother and Holy Water.  No wonder I have a deep unease about the whole subject. 

4 comments:

  1. How strange your mother was asked to cover her head in 1980. I seem to recall going to a Catholic church with a university friend in Birmingham in 1976 and wasn't asked to cover my head in church. Very different from my husband's cousin's wedding in 1989 in a Primitive Baptist church where we were told to wear a hat (because everyone knows that women who don't cover their heads are prostitutes!) and children were only allowed in the back of the balcony if they made no noise!). My youngest was one at the time, so I sent hubby with the two boys and I joined everyone else at the reception. St Winifred's Holy well is still on my list to visit one day but I'm busy visiting my local holy wells for a book about North Cotswold Water. I think your mother did absolutely the right thing. Holy water is not really for drinking per se but for immersion, bathing, performing rituals around the site, divination, showing your future husband and sometimes for ingesting if gathered on the correct day at the correct time. When people take water from Glastonbury, they often keep it for several months afterwards when it would have built up all kinds of growing things but it can be used to consecrate a site or a circle or bless an individual by sprinkling. Water has memory and so absorbs the intention of the gatherer. Your mother blessed her friend by her positive determination to gather the water for her. (I'd better stop as I can bore for England on the subject of sacred wells and springs :)

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    1. That sounds interesting. I don't know much about sacred springs. I associate them with pagan sites converted to Christianity. I very loosely based the village in Digging up the Past on a village I knew in the Welsh borders. After writing about the archaeologists finding the well, it turns out that there was a sacred well there, and I didn't know!

      As for my mother being asked to cover her head - it's possible. It's an area where there was a tradition of church versus chapel and that sort of tribalism tends to make the churches more parochial or 'traditional' in my experience. As it was so long ago I could be remembering mother's account, rather than what actually happened, but I'm pretty certain. The wonderful thing about my life and family is that I never need to make things up. LMx

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  2. Your mother sounds like a very interesting woman.

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    1. She was. It's the best way to describe her. LM x

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