Angela

This attractive and rather modern stone marks the burial spot of an old friend and neighbour. She was a kenspeckle character in the town for many years as she, along with husband Steve, ran The Coffee Pot Cafe in the Northgate.

Angela's family were Italian, though she herself was born in Scotland, and to hear her speak it was like she had just arrived straight from Italy. In contrast, her sister Jenny was born in Italy but spoke with no trace of an Italian accent whatsoever.

She used to tell how she met Steve while working for her relations in their cafe in Midcalder. ot was it West Calder! He had come in with some friends; Angela had taken one look at him and announced that he was the man she was going to marry - and marry him she did! They had a long and happy marriage, raising their family, and working all the hours God sent at the cafe they bought together in Peebles. It was not unknown for Angela to be doing her housework at 2.00 in the morning, having cooked a meal at the cafe after hours for some poor lost soul, then come home to start all over again with feeding the family and preparing for the following day in the cafe!

When finally her health started to deteriorate, and they were forced to give up the cafe, Angela was lost. She had worked long and hard all her life, and retirement didn't come easy. Two or three times a day I would see her pass by my house on the 3/4 mile walk into town. She knew everybody and everybody knew her, so the visits "down the street" were dotted with a conversation here and another there with old friends and former customers.

Angela would do anything for anybody, and often she would give away a huge bowl of homemade pasta because, she said, she had made too much. She was frequently asked to come along to my B&B to translate for my Italian guests who had no more English than I had Italian, at that stage. I finally went to classes, and was encouraged by her!

As I said, retirement wasn't for Angela and she struggled to find something to take up as a hobby. Eventually she took up tapestry work and completed several beautiful pieces which must be prized by her family today.

Soon it was evident that things weren't quite right. One day I met her in the street outside my house and as usual we chatted, but it was obvious she hadn't a clue who I was, and when I mentioned my friend Vina, next door, she looked puzzled and said she didn't know a Vina! Oh that was a big shock.

Finally the end came in June 5 years ago. Her funeral service in the chapel was a celebration of her life, attended by many of her old friends, and then she was taken to the cemetery to be buried alongside her sister. The other day was the first time I had been back there since then, so it was rather nice to stand there looking at her lovely stone and remember the fun, lively lady she had been.