Apologies for the painfully slow update...

Henry Higgins loses his father 1884 at the age of twelve. This may give you an insight as to what moulded his slightly arrogant personality, and teach you that events in a childhood DO impact on later life. (Solely my opinion)

-Henry Higgins diary entry.

B is for Bereavement- part one

Dear Diary, 19th March 1884

Mother and I have just arrived home after attending father's funeral. Some people believe it is not proper to have funerals on Sundays. However mother felt we should break with tradition. Poor Louise, bless her bed ridden heart, could not attend. Mother feared she was far too weak and would faint with all the emotion. I feel I did not do my late father justice in my music: I continually wept throughout my own epic piano solo, and played more than a few incorrect notes. However it is my belief that as most who attended were so overwhelmed with grief, my mistakes were barely noticeable.

Diary, I fear I will never get the memory of the disastrous burial out of my mind, and it shall probably haunt me till the end of my days.

I shall now explain a little about today's events. They may sound humorous, but bear in mind the torment they caused my poor widowed mother. The first catastrophe was when the vicar announced that: "we are all gathered here today to pay our last respects to Andrew Wickersham." This was followed by a great deal of confusion and outrage, as we were all convinced that the corpse in the coffin was in fact christened James Higgins!

Once the confusion (and outrage on my mother's behalf) was over, the vicar continued with much apology. I at least was sure that from there onwards things should run quite smoothly. However, everything went from bad to worse. When we had ventured outdoors for the burial, and the vicar got to the part of, "ashes to ashes, and dust to dust," my mother let out a cry like a strangled whale, and the vicar was taken so much by surprise that he immediately toppled head first into the newly dug grave!

Mother did not permit my tutor to enter the house today; she said that no other man should enter the house until the black drapes are removed, as is family tradition. I understand that it is out of respect for my father; however she is refusing to remove them until she has finished grieving! I ask you now diary, how long will it take? I do not wish for my education to suffer! And also, am I not now regarded as the man of the house? I am twelve! Honestly diary, though I am a renowned child prodigy in the field of English, I cannot be expected to tutor myself!

My mind is thirsty for knowledge! I could always ask Charlotte for help, however she is but a poor maid and must be able to accomplish nothing more than care for my sister. Although mother talks very highly of her and her intelligence I doubt that it could surpass my own! However if there has been one thing I have learned from growing up with a sister and mother like mine, it is not to argue as all I can achieve is total seclusion, being pushed away from my family with my judgments of others! But at least I always had father. I suppose that my father's loss will tell upon my character and emotions greatly in time to come, I will miss those stolen hours spent by his side in our small boat, letting time slip by as gradually and carelessly as if it were water travelling through a stream. Though it seems that those hours were years ago, I shall never forget his hearty laugh, the way he was looked up to by all who knew him, and the kind words he gave me when I was in need. I loved the way he would take poor orphaned Jerry into his heart, and treat my dearest friend as a son, quite unlike mother who has always done her best to ignore his presence, and even sometimes myself continuously calling him orphanage boy! At least Louise is generally in another world, and is barely aware of anybody else around her.

I do so hope that my dear sister will recover one day. Doctors keep saying that she is on borrowed time, but I still feel as I have kept on saying, that her spirit will keep her going! Mother cannot take any further losses.

However I hope mother will allow Jerry to visit. If she does not count me as a man she couldn't possibly count Jerry as one, he is at least a month younger than I! After all, I need a good friend, a pillar of hope, somebody to work alongside of at a time like this! A fellow musician to accompany me through some of Mozart's finest voyages through music! Somebody to share my passion with!

But my dearest diary, I shall always remember my dear fathers final words to me, "Never let a woman in your life."

Now, what have we all learnt?

- Part two focuses upon Eliza Doolittle and the loss of her mother at a very early age.