I won’t be sorry to see the back of 2020, I’m sure I’m not alone.
Things are returning back to normal(ish). I’m not entirely happy with this, I have enjoyed the peace and quiet, being able to hear the birds singing and empty streets. All the numpties seem to be out and about and I am waiting for the next wave.
I have booked a cottage in October for all the family for my birthday, I am just hoping we don’t end up in an April style lockdown and have to cancel. I will be 60 this year so it is a milestone for me, I never thought I’d last this long. We will be stopping near Whitby, the cottage is a five minute walk from the beach, which will be handy as we will have three dogs, I’m not so worried about my daughters French bulldog but my Lab and my father in law’s springer take a fair bit of wearing out.
Last week would have been my father’s 89th birthday, talking to my daughter we got on the subject of my Mother. My mother cut me off in 2008, I made contact with her in 2013 and although we had a long chat it was clear to me that she didn’t want to re-connect, so that was that, I returned the following week and put my Father’s PSV badge through the letterbox for my brother who had asked for it a while ago. Anyway we were pondering whether or not she was still alive, Toni believed she was dead due to a box of photo’s I received from my brother a couple of years ago. The photo’s arrived without a note. On the Monday I did a search through the GRO and low and behold it turns out my mother died in April 2018. It was a strange feeling, she could be a funny old bird, she could be the kindest most generous person there was, but she was very quick to be the complete opposite. She had a very hard upbringing growing up during the war, I remember she told me that she never wanted to go back home after being evacuated. Over the years there were many fallouts with her family and they all seemed to be broken into different factions and many of the issues were down to he said she said type scenarios. While talking to Toni I remembered situation back in 1978 when her mother died. Her and her sister didn’t tell the rest of the family what had happened, which of course caused an unrepairable rift. It was that bad that when I took Chris and Sheila to meet with their sister Claire in 2000 it ended up in a bitchfest about the funeral 22 years ago. They left not speaking to each, I don’t know if this was ever repaired.
They talk about history repeating itself, and this is a fine example, I’m not fussed, I mourned my loss when she cut me off, and moved on. The news was a bit like when you hear of an old friend you lost contact with had died, it stings a bit then you move on.
I don’t know where you ended up Chris, but I hope you find peace.
Christina Joan Still 11/8/1933 – 3/4/2018