Denise Evelyne Knight

Lyne

12/3/1945 – 14/10/2023

When I was about eight years old, I became hyper aware of my mum’s mortality. I would lie in bed for hours worrying that she would be dead soon and that life without her would be unbearable. Sometimes, I would go downstairs in tears but there was nothing she could really do to allay my fears. One night, I was so upset that she actually promised me that she was never going to die. I’m telling this story not to call my mum a liar, I mean, she said the words, but even then, I could see in her eyes that she didn’t really believe what she was saying  and I knew it was an impossible promise – everybody dies – I’m telling it to get across how much that woman meant to me back then, how much she still means to me. She frankly gave me everything I have. she gave me my incredible good looks, thanks mum. She gave me my sister  She gave me my life, and she would often tell me about what a difficult pregnancy she had with me, especially around my birthday – she had dangerously high blood pressure that could have killed both her and me, or left me handicapped in some way (my friend Clinton regularly joked that I looked like I was handicapped and hadn’t, in fact, narrowly dodged that bullet) she went on to have a caesarean section that led to a spell in an incubator – for me, not her. Her mother, grandma Edna used to joke that I was too big and fat for the incubator and would say how enormous I was next to all them other dainty little babies. 

My sister, Emma, followed two years later, and the four of us grew up in various houses in East London and Essex, moving every few years, as mum had developed itchy feet after growing up in post war Britain as a transient vicar’s daughter. She was quite deeply affected by rationing and would often tell a story of being in hospital and being given an egg, that she could have when she wanted it. The egg rolled off the nightstand and broke, so she didn’t have an egg. When the girl in the next bed said that she didn’t want her egg, mum asked if she could have it and was severely admonished for being greedy. 

I’ve had a lot of difficult and complicated relationships in my life, but I had an uncomplicated and very loving relationship with my mum. I never fell out with her. Our relationship never disintegrated, only for us to make up and rekindle our relationship later in life. She was the one unbroken constant thing throughout my life. She was an accomplished artist, who was particularly adept at drawing incredibly lifelike eyes that drew you into the work. She painted murals and banners for churches and one year made a beautiful marzipan nativity scene, with a marzipan Mary, a marzipan Joseph and a marzipan Jesus. This was displayed under hot lights that caused the tall and slim Mary and Joseph to become very short and very fat. 

She knew what she liked – she loved Freddie Mercury and Queen. She loved the mournful wailing guitars of Brian May and Gary Moore. “It moves me,” or “It sends me,” she would say. She loved Leonard Cohen. She loved mayonnaise and sweetcorn pickle and cheese. She wasn’t the best cook in the world but made a mean shepherd’s pie (with LOADS of cheese!) and excellent fish pie (with LOADS of cheese) and a wonderful macaroni cheese (with extra cheese).

Her faith was very important to her – she was the middle daughter of a clergyman and a lifelong Christian, but it was all very much on her own terms. She would often say that she was a Christian who didn’t like other Christians very much, and as a result of this, would not go to church for long periods of time but she always went back. She was making inroads to return to this very church and was due to attend for the first time the day after she, very sadly died. 

She had many friends and lovers over the years. Since she died it has been lovely to see and hear about all the ways she touched people’s lives and how much she was loved by lots of other people, not only me. She lost touch with a lot of them. A few names I’ll mention, Harry and Christine, Sue and Dick, Chris and Ernie, Grace and Doreen, Carrina and Joan Odd.

She had a raucously funny relationship with Judith Gard – Jude. She and mum became the O. D. B’s (or Old Dirty Birds) on a crazy holiday up to Orkney just before the twin towers fell back in 2001, which used to be the future. She always said she wanted to make it to eighty and she didn’t quite make it but she had a bloody good go, and despite various health problems over the years outlived many of her peers. 

She felt guilty about some of the choices she had made over the years and gave herself a really hard time over them, so she was really pleased and actually quite relieved to have made her peace with, and even rekindled a friendship with her ex-husband, Andrew back in 2018, after more than twenty years of acrimony. The two of them met up several times before he died and they shared some wonderful moments in Bristol and on Clevedon Pier even as the irritation was beginning to set back in.  

She was a wonderful, warm and funny woman and I am so pleased that I got to have her as my mum. I’m going to miss her like mad. 

I love you, mum. So very much. 

Simon Downham-Knight – Copyright 2023