Coincidences

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18 May 2015 at 18:46 ·

My oldest best friend's mother has passed away so next week I shall be going down to Wales for the funeral - alone. I explained to Thunderthighs that I will be driving down on Wednesday and back on Friday.

"We'd better not have any staycation trips this half term" says he "because you should really spend Tuesday getting yourself ready to go."

Sometimes he can be remarkably sweet.

Bentonbag Thunderthighs  has just walked into the office

"Have you got any money Dad?"

"Yes.  Lots."

..... long silence ....

Finally

"Can I have some ... please?."

Fester brings a bundle out of his back pocket.

Thunderthighs grabs a £20 with alacrity and a "That'll do"

Mrs Lasagne  Sorry to hear your sad news Ben xxx

Mr Monkshood  I don't remember Mick ever giving that answer before.

Bentonbag  His chickens are coming home to roost - or should that be geese ...

Mrs Poet   Drive lightly.  Have some comfort as well as giving it.x

That memory reminds me of events around the deaths of Oldestbestfriend’s parents.

OBF is an only child, we became friends aged four and a half, and it feels as if I spent every other Saturday from the age of 7 to 17 on her parents’ farm.   

After I came North, I tried to visit Mary and Tom whenever I was down home and they rejoiced at the good things that happened in my life, and grieved at the sad. 

Mary once said “If your parents ever throw you out, you’ve always got a home with us” (not that that was ever likely to happen).

Being farmers they were some of the first people to have a telephone and Mary had frequent and long conversations on it.

On the evening of 9th May 2015 my phone rang.   

I answered.   

Nobody there.

I dialled 1471 but the number was a mobile one that I didn’t recognise.

A few moments later my mobile crowed.   

A text from OBF.  

I opened it. 

No message just the details of who had sent it. 

“Oh” I thought “Her mobile phone has turned itself on in her handbag and is ringing me.”

So I phoned her landline.   

No one home.  

I phoned her mobile, she answered with 

“I’m sorry I can’t talk now.  The care home have phoned.  They think we should go and see Mum while there’s still time.”

Mary by this time was well into her 80s, and had been ailing for some time, 

("Going down" as my Mother used to say) so it was sad but not surprising.

I told OBF about the text and call, and asked if she’d like me to let our school friends who had known her mother what was happening.   

She agreed.

I lit a candle to light Mary on her way, then came upstairs to message and email.

When I had finished and went back down the candle had burnt out, and I knew Mary was gone.

You could say it was all coincidence, but of all the people who would try and reach me by phone Mary comes top of the list.

Tom talked less than Mary, although he insisted on making a speech at my wedding to Phil, which confused the non-Welsh guests no end. 

In February half-term 2006 we were down home and took OBF and her little daughter to Folly Farm Fun Fair in Pembrokeshire.   

Me and OBF 2005

When we dropped them back at the farm I did something I’d never done before in my life; as I left I hugged Tom and kissed his cheek.

OBJ had bemoaned the fact she couldn’t find any posters with the Welsh alphabet, and a couple of days later I found one in a shop in Brecon.  I brought it back up to Newcastle intending to post it to her.  It sat on top of the piano for ages.  

 One afternoon I thought 

“I really should get around to sending that”, 

sat down, wrote her a letter and put in the poster tube which I posted off to her house.  

I hadn’t realised that major renovations meant that she, her partner and little girl were temporarily renting.   

There was no front door or letterbox.  

A few weeks later the poster came back to me.  

Tom died very suddenly of a heart attack. 

When we next went down home I went to the farm, remembering to take the poster with me.   

OBF opened the tube, took out the poster and started to read the letter.   

Then she went very still and said 

“You wrote this letter the day my father died.”