End of an era

Two relatives of mine died this week. Both were born in the same year of 1918, and were ninety-three years old. One was my Aunt Katy's mum, Gladys. My first memories of Gladys are from the 1960s, probably about 1966, when she made me the bridesmaid's dress that I wore to Bill and Katy's wedding. The fittings must have made a big impression on me because I remember her house and the dress (a beautiful pale blue silk with a sash) very well. Gladys was very elegant and smart, kind and smiling to me (unlike some of the adults I knew in the 1960s!) I saw her at various family gatherings over many years, and the last time I saw her was at Bill and Katy's 40th wedding anniversary a few years ago. She had advanced dementia by that time, but was as elegant as ever and I was impressed by the love and tenderness shown to her by her children and grandchildren.
The other person who died this week was my dear Uncle Dougie, a fine gentleman who was married to my Aunt Jean. He outlived her by about five years even though he was eleven years older than she was. He had been an engineer whose work took him all over the country, until they settled in Surrey, where they brought up their five children. He was always very good-natured and welcoming to me and James, and interested in everything, with a great memory. He managed to live independently in his house until last weekend when he took ill, and died very quickly in hospital. He played golf and was very active all his life; I remember a great speech that he made at his daughter Rona's wedding, about how she had been Miss Whyte until her marriage, and he reminisced about other Miss Whytes that have been in his family, then pointed out that Rona's nieces would carry on the tradition. He and his eldest son Robin visited Mum regularly when they were in Scotland, and he and all his children took the train up from London for my Mum's funeral in 2010, which I found very touching. He was one of the last links to the golden bygone era of my Mum and her sisters when they were all young and poverty-stricken but glamorous blondes being pursued by dashing young men. My Uncle Bill is also of that generation but he was just a teenager in the 1950s.
Anyway both Gladys and Dougie reached a good age, but I am sorry that they are gone.