Probably Not the Next Samuel Pepys

I had to write a one day diary for a local history project that I am involved with so I thought that I would share it on the blog too.

Saturday 22nd September 2012

I really must be mad! The insistant bleeping of the alarm clock woke me at 4.30am, I reached out to turn it off and then remembered that I had moved it out of reach the night before to make absolutely sure that I woke up. I sat up and reached down to silence the alarm clock, Robbie was still sleeping soundly so I gave him a prod and told him that it was 4.30am and if he wanted to catch his train he needed to get moving right now, then I dashed off to beat him to the bathroom. When I got back to the bedroom he plodded off to get ready while I sneaked back under the covers for ten minutes, after all 'normal people' would still be fast asleep. The next thing I knew it was almost 5am and he was back in the bedroom showered and almost ready to go. It is surprising how fast you can get ready when you really have to. 

When I got downstairs he was just packing his lunch into his rucksack and by the time he got outside I had already started the car and we were all ready to go. The car knows the way to the railway station, we do that journey so often. On weekdays we are usually up at 5am so that he can catch his train to Birmingham just after 6am, so I look forward to a more leisurely start to the day on Saturdays and Sundays. Unfortunately the lure of the railway gets the better of him and he just can't keep away. Today he is going to the Deltic Gathering at the East Lancashire Railway, he is absolutely passionate about Deltics, especially his favourite Royal Scots Grey. I would have gone with him because I like Deltics too, but I have a terrible cough at the moment, it is exhausting and I haven't been sleeping very well, so I just don't have the stamina to cope with a long day on the railways at the moment.

He waved as he slammed the car door and walked towards the station. I felt a sense of relief, I had fulfilled my promise and got him there on time, now the rest of the day was my own and if I wanted to I could go back to bed. I clicked the radio on, radio 4 is the soundtrack to my life, I always have the radio on at home or in the car. I only half listened to the discussion about TB in cattle and the pros and cons of culling badgers to limit the spread of bovine TB, as I drove up the hill away from the railway station. I was thinking that my ancestors were closely linked with this part of the town. My great grandfather was orphened when very young, he grew up in the work house, but he when he was sent to be an appentice to a cordwainer in Leicester Street, he found a trade and a family and he spent the rest of his life in Leicester Street. His daughter my great grandmother grew up there, had her first home as a married woman in the next street and she brought her large family up just a couple of streets away. The area as they knew it is now long gone, but there is still one landmark that they would recognise, the spire of Seps Church still points heavenward, the clock still measures the relentless march of time in hours and minutes. The church which for centuries has witnessed the joys and sorrows of the people, stands strong and defiant amid the 'here today gone tomorrow' buildings of our modern town, reminding us of lasting values that are too easily forgotten amid the demands of modern life.

When I got home I put the kettle on for a much needed cup of tea and while I waited for it to boil I sorted the laundry into piles and put on the first load of the day. I was too awake to go back to bed and sleep, but I felt bruised and exhausted from all the coughing so I took my cup of tea and my laptop up to bed. I may not sleep but at least I could sit quietly with the radio and my laptop to occupy me. I enjoyed a couple of hours catching up with email and facebook and I began to write my diary entry for today. I must have fallen asleep at some point because it was mid morning when I woke up. I enjoyed a long relaxing bath while listening to Radio 4, a shower is fine most of the time, but there is something special about a nice hot bath. I wish this cough would get better, it is so exhausting.

It is unusual to be at home on my own, but today was very quiet, my son stayed at his friend's house last night, my older daughter had gone to Milton Keynes with her boyfriend and my younger daughter was shut in her room writing up notes in preparation for her post graduate course at Leicester University which begins on Monday. I like my own company and I never struggle to fill my time. There was a whole list of jobs demanding my attention today, but I only did the laundry and the routine tasks, I decided that the peace and quiet was too precious to waste, the other jobs can wait until I feel better.

The only problem with doing nothing is that you have too much time to think and this was one of those days that provided a lot to think about. Nine years ago today I sat with my first husband Eric in the Three Shires Hospital as the last hours of his life slipped away; then I went home and told my children that their dad was dead. Life goes on but those memories don't  fade, it is not something that you forget despite the passage of time, the details of that day are imprinted on my mind. I found myself wondering how he would feel about the way our lives have changed. I hope that I have done a good enough job as a parent, it hasn't always been easy. Eric didn't want me to be on my own if the worst should happen, but it must be hard at times for Robbie, living with a ghost. Perhaps it helps that they are very different. 

My son came home and my daughter emerged from her room, she had finished her work and was ready to fulfill her promise to paint my nails with crackle nail varnish, silver base with black crackle on top. It looked very nice. I hardly ever wear nail varnish, but it is nice to spoil myself once in a while and it is lovely to share moments like this with my daughter.

Time went on, we ate early because my daughter was going out later. My daughter went to get ready and I left my son to feed the cats while I drove to the station to pick my Robbie up. On the way back we popped into Morrisons for a printer cartridge and one or two essentials. I was glad to get home, but I had to go straight out again because my daughter wanted a lift into town. She looked amazing. We picked her friend up on the way and I dropped them both off at The Goose. By the time I got home again Robbie had a cup of tea waiting for me and I chatted to him about his day for a little while, he'd had a lovely time. 

Later on Robbie wanted to watch a film, it wasn't really my sort of thing so I decided to head up to bed with my laptop to listen to Radio 4 Extra and catch up with my friends on facebook. The cough was impossible, I couldn't stop coughing and I couldn't get my breath, it was a very frightening feeling, I was exhausted but I knew that I had another sleepless night ahead of me. Thank goodness for the internet and friends who stay up late and are happy to chat at 2am. How different from my childhood when my mum considered it very bad manners to make a telephone call after 9pm. 

When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on - Franklin D Roosevelt

Yesterday was 'one of those days'. If I am honest those difficult days seem to crop up with surprising regularity and just occasionally I find myself wondering if things will ever get easier. I am not usually an Eeyore type, I try to have a positive outlook, but everyone has their moments. 

We all have our own ways of dealing with a bad day, some people distract themselves with a shopping trip, but I prefer to log on to the computer to spend an hour or two working on my family history. I enjoy finding out about the lives of my ancestors and it helps to put things into perspective. However difficult things seem to be for me, I know that I have it easy in comparison to many of my ancestors. 


I have been working on a very faded photograph of my grandma and a group of other people. With the help of a couple of other people I have managed to restore the photo and I have been trying hard to identify the other people in the picture. It is strange looking at a photo of my grandmother as a young woman, no older than my children are now. I remember her as a strong and rather formidable old lady, but looking at the younger photo I saw a gentler face full of youthful hope. It must have been about 1911 and I realised that dreadful worry and sorrows lay ahead of her. There must have been times when just putting one foot in front of the other and getting on with life was almost impossible, but she did it. Her life experiences gave her the inner strength and determination that I remember so clearly.


She had many little sayings, one of her favourites was 'whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger'. I didn't realise it at the time, but she was living proof of that. Thinking about my grandma reminded me of a framed verse that she kept on the mantelpiece,"Four things come not back, the spoken word, the sped arrow, the past life and the neglected opportunity". I didn't understand the truth of it at the time, but I do now. I will not allow the worries and aggravations that come my way to cast a shadow over the many good things in my life. People may have cause to regret underestimating me, I come from a long line of strong women and I don't give up!

Magna est veritas et praevalet     

Life and death are balanced on the edge of a razor - Homer

Sometimes we are reminded in the most painful way that we are just observers in the drama of other people's lives. On Wednesday evening Robbie was travelling home (by train of course), he left his first train and walked along the platform to wait for his connecting train as he usually does. He noticed what he thought was a train spotter standing on the ramp at the end of the platform rather too close to the track. He alerted station staff and walked towards the man, but while he was still some distance away he saw the man walk onto the track, position himself and then within a matter of seconds be hit by a train. Needless to say Robbie was very upset about it and upset for all those people who had to deal with what had happened.


Seeing something like that is not easily forgotten and not easily processed because it gives rise to a muddle of conflicting emotions. First there is shock and sorrow for a life lost and sadness for those left behind. Then there is anger that someone would make such a selfish choice by killing themselves in such a messy and public way, causing trauma and inconvenience to everyone involved. Anger too that someone would choose to end their life while others fight so hard to stay alive yet lose their battle. 


There are so many thoughts and so many questions, but perhaps the most pressing question is why would anyone feel that such a terrible death was their only option? Was it some terrible shock that had driven him to such desperate action, or perhaps he felt alone and afraid, unable to endure the troubles that life brings. Could it even have been desperation caused by the incorrect assessments and impossible demands of CSA. I know that Robbie felt very close to giving up when he recently received a totally incorrect demand for £17,000.  


Whatever the reason, I hope that this poor man has found peace and I hope that the train driver, station staff and all those who were touched by this tragedy will not suffer lasting effects because of what they witnessed. I also hope that anyone contemplating such a drastic option will reach out to someone close to them and find the help that they so badly need.

Tears

On Saturday lunchtime I answered the phone to find Emily sobbing on the other end. It was difficult to make sense of what she was saying and a ripple of fear ran through me, obviously something very bad had happened and as she and Laura were both at work my first fear was that something had happened to Laura. Through her tears Emily managed to tell me that one of her co-workers had died and Emily was so upset by the news that she had been allowed to go home. I dashed out to pick her up and by the time I found her she was a little bit calmer. Karen, had only been off sick for three or four weeks and the news of her death had come as a terrible shock. Emily liked her because she was a bit 'dizzy' like Emily and she was always helpful and friendly at work. She had young children so her death was especially sad. Cancer is such a cruel illness.

The previous day we had been delighted by the news of a new life and so soon afterwards we were reminded of the sadness of death. It is the way of the world, but the pain is especially bitter when someone dies so tragically young. It certainly pushes our own trivial worries back into perspective and it reminds us to make the most of our own lives.

Robbie went to a gig last night, to see The Breeders, so I spent the evening trying to stay awake because I had to pick him up from the station at 12.40am! He still managed to get up for work at 5.15am, but as usual I thought Monday morning had arrived far too soon.

Morning Madness 02.03.07

This morning was a mixture of sadness and frustration. Emily was getting ready to go to the funeral of her special friend Charles. She chose to go with her friends rather than me, I'm sure she was right, but I feel so inadequate to support her. She bought a nice purple top to wear, it was his favourite colour. I can't imagine how his family are finding the strength to cope.

Laura headed to school with all her art coursework, it has to be handed in for marking. She has worked very hard on it and I think it is good, but I can tell she is anxious about it. She sets herself very high standards and she is more critical of herself than is good for her.

Mornings with Sam are never easy, but this week has been increasingly challenging. Yesterday he made cookies with Laura and his school trousers ended up covered in cookie dough. As usual I got his clean clothes ready last night and set them out ready for him. This morning a 'Tasmanian Devil' with wild hair appeared in the lounge apparently dressed and ready for school. On closer inspection he was wearing yesterday's clothes and when required to go back and start again he produced a tantrum that even Robbie couldn't emulate. It seemed almost as if his speech and movement had been flicked to fast forward.

When he was eventually washed and dressed to my satisfaction we encountered another problem. Sam absolutely refuses to have school dinners, it has nothing to do with the 'magic finger' payment system, it is about his unwillingness to queue. I really struggle with crowds and I actively avoid busy places, so I have some sympathy with Sam, but I suspect this is another aspect of his autistic syndrome disorder. I really don't know how to help him, but I want to help him overcome the problem, otherwise his life will be really restricted.

I dropped him off looking relatively neat and tidy, but he will emerge from school this afternoon looking as if he has been dragged through a hedge backwards. Why do some people always look clean and neat while others couldn't look smart for more than five minutes if their life depended on it?