Tupperware doesn’t immediately strike you as something which might trigger grief and uncontrolled weeping and wailing. Or at least, I didn’t think so.

Since Jane died on November 2nd, I have cleared her clothes, her shoes and her jewellery; I would be suddenly overcome by weeping and wailing, but it was basically short lived and I could continue. I have made a first ‘cull’ of photographs too and have gone through the enormous box of keepsake cards and letters. All without too much grief.

But the Tupperware. Oh my.

It dates from 1984; notable for the miners’ strike. Our friend Yolanda had trained as a nurse in Sheffield; and Susan was her friend. Susan went on to marry a policeman who was involved in patrolling the striking miners and the ones who continued to work, in Nottinghamshire.

Suddenly this policeman became very ill. Admitted to hospital where multiple tests revealed nothing. The doctors suggested Susan call in a priest to deliver the last rites, as her husband was dying and they had no idea why.  Terrified, she did just that. Her husband was not expected to survive one more night.

At home, by chance, she had the radio on while she was washing up; to distract her from the thought she might be widow in hours. The BBC carried a tale of Celiacs Disease.

Susan thought it was worth a chance. She cooked her husband a meal omitting all gluten and drove to the hospital. Battling rules she reached the ward and fed her dying husband a tiny spoonful of the meal. He opened his eyes. She fed him the rest. He sat up.

Within a week, he was discharged, but he resigned from the police on ‘ill-health’ grounds. Susan had to support them both.

Tupperware parties. Yolanda invited us to support Susan and her husband.  We did.

Susan went on to resume her nursing career and her husband began an IT company – one of the first in the UK in 1984. He did very well.

Tupperware and Susan started a lifelong fascination for Jane into diet. She was vegan by then – as indeed was I. Tupperware held lots of the myriad of seeds and beans and weird stuff she would cook for us. Using food she bought from SUMA. Susan introduced us to SUMA too. Back then, SUMA was the only way you could buy such exotics as soya milk and recycled toilet paper.

Tupperware and SUMA have been part of our lives ever since. I still have orders from SUMA – their coffee is the best. But the need for so much Tupperware has long gone.

I collected it all together, washed it all, removed ancient labels, and filled one cupboard.

Then offered the rest to Jane’s family. Who have declined it. I offered it to my family. My brother will take it all.

The absolute uncontrollable weeping and wailing while doing this job has left me wrung out.  

Who knew Tupperware would be such a trigger?

CMM

A Moodscope member