As I sat eating my breakfast today (I can’t
remember now what had brought up the subject), Myfanwy began telling me about how she’d
been born in India. (Let’s see – if she’s 79, that would make it back in 1933.)
She left there when she was three so doesn’t really remember a whole lot about
the circumstances, but is very proud of the fact, nonetheless. Her parents had
gone there separately as young teachers and met up and gotten married. (She
said her mom must have been one adventurous, bold young woman, to have gone off
half way around the world like that, all on her own – back in the day when
women just didn’t do that sort of thing! I wouldn’t doubt it in the least – as
her daughter is quite a woman to be reckoned with, I can assure you from
personal experience.) The school where her dad eventually became head master
was right on the edge of the foothills of Tibet – she showed me a picture – set up by the Church of Scotland (much more
Presbyterian than Anglican in principle, Myfanwy informs me) to teach the
children that nobody wanted – half breed Anglo-Tibetans. She said because of
their limbo status – having no place in either society - many went on to
immigrate to other parts of the Commonwealth and became successful
professionals in their own right. Later when her mother became convinced the
climate was doing her health no good, the family relocated back to Wales to be
near her mom’s extended family, which nationality Myfanwy claims. (Her father
was a Scotsman.)
As for McFanwy (my fine, rare one, by meaning), a classy petite Welsh beauty, she was in
her second year at university, studying drama and voice, when along came debonair,
up-and-coming John Sinclair and, as they say, that was the end of that. A while
ago Myfanwy had told me there was a popular, Welsh folksong with her name as the title. When I
first looked it up on YouTube, and listened to the melody as I read along with
the words, I felt like crying. (Granted, I am pretty tender-hearted when it comes
to love – especially unrequited love.) This is because Myfanwy, in a candid
moment, had told me how, when she was 60 years old, her husband, after 40 years
of marriage, three kids, and major career successes, had left her for a younger
woman – an Italian student of his at the university. Though this song is in
reverse to her situation, where it is the man acknowledging the loss of his
lady love, this song, for me, really exemplified the tenderness of her story.
Myfanwy sung by all-male Welsh choir, kind of sappy, but then again, so am I - we're both worth it!
(Choose me due to English translation of this
beautiful song of love)
Myfanwy sung by Welsh tenor, Cyngerdd Rhydian -
X-Factor winner, I understand
(Choose me because you love a fabulous male voice
combined with a fabulous love song)
Myfanwy as sung in ‘How Green Was My Valley,’
1941, starring Walter Pidgeon and Maureen O’Hara
(Choose me because you love a good tear-jerker and old classic B&W films)
Myfanwy with cheeky British humour (sorry - just couldn't pass up giving you a wee taste)
(PLEASE choose to watch this one last, if you must
go there - Myfanwy would NOT be amused!)
