Euphemia Chamberlayne

We laid Phemie to rest in the family graveyard at Chamberlainstown, close to her late husband Air Commodore Paul (Tanks) Tankerville…

We laid Phemie to rest in the family graveyard at Chamberlainstown, close to her late husband Air Commodore Paul (Tanks) Tankerville Chamberlayne. She had spent most of her widowhood at Tullynally Castle in Co Westmeath, where she presided as a kind of fairy godmother. Phemie was the most unforgettable person that I have ever met. She possessed one gift which is rare these days, the gift of availability. Phemie had plenty of time in the evening of her life to listen to so many friends who came knocking on her apartment door at Tullynally. In a way she was the ever beautiful and radiant queen of Camelot. She had so much love to give and to share. She showered the disheartened with encouragement.

Phemie's funeral service took place in the family drawing-room where her devoted son Michael and daughter-in-law Marylynn preside. It was fitting that she spent the last moments of her earthly life in the family home. She loved her family and introduced her many grandchildren to the adventures and new discoveries in the woods and lakeside of Tullynally. The special treats were never forgotten.

Phemie bore the grief of her grandson Xingu's tragic death with quiet dignity, and the pain stayed with her. She would never have called herself religious, but she was a deeply spiritual person, a very mystical woman. Most of her time and thoughts were spent in the spirit world. When a caring young friend was leaving for foreign parts, Phemie said that they would keep in touch by looking at the moon. Wherever they were, they would both see the moon, and think of each other. Phemie's memories were legion, whether thinking of her beloved Scotland, or anchored in the stillness off Howth Head.

I thank God upon every remembrance of her. Those precious soirees in her living-room at dusk continue to kindle a light and a flame. Though she appreciated beautiful things, material things were not a high priority, and she never complained. Phemie's influence was infectious, and knew no social barriers. Butcher, baker, grocer mourned equally:

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"Sceptre and crown must

tumble down

And in the dust be equal made,

With the poor crooked scythe and spade."

Phemie once spoke of the time when we would be totally free in the world of the spirit. She would be waiting to greet me, and all her family and friends. That radiant 80-year-old, still unbelievably beautiful, that infectious smile and twinkling eyes will greet us. Archbishop William Temple once wrote that as we are turned towards the light, so we reflect the light. Phemie was a reflector. Micky and Pilly were blessed with a unique and very special mother, grandmother, great-grandmother. She is at peace. N.T.R.