Forty Years Ago Today

From Facebook Archives

8 August 2023 at 09.20

4 August 1983 Uncle Walter died.

The next summer I arranged to go to Mass with Auntie Edna on his anniversary.

4 August 1984 the phone rang very early for a Saturday (8.30ish).

It was Mum.   

Dad had had a serious heart attack, was in the High Dependancy Unit of Glangwili Hospital and I should come home in case the worst happened.

The next hour or so was a whirl of phoning and packing.

First the hardest: Aunty Ed to say I couldn't go to mass with her as her much loved brother-in-law was gravely ill.

Then someone I worked with to let them know I wouldn't be in on Monday, and I didn't know when I would be.

My flatmate (the Squireen) saying "You'd better take your wellies, you may need to go for a long walk down the river."

Onto the No1 bus down to Central Station.

This was before privatisation when you didn't have to take out a mortgage for a walk-on long distance train journey.

Middlesister lives in Chesterfield.  She got the same call and caught the first available train.  It was packed.  She boarded and had the choice to turn left down the train or right. She turned right and the first person she saw was me.

The lady sitting opposite me realised we were sisters and that there was something amiss so kindly gave up her seat so we could sit together.

Then half way through the journey an announcement.

"A lady's ring has been found in the toilet ... so if any lady has lost her ring..."

And Middlesister and I catching each other’s eye and laughing at the rudery (as Mother would say).

Finally getting there.

Thinking they'd shaved Dad's moustache and realising, with fear, that I couldn't see it because his skin was the same pale grey colour.

Dad, thank God, survived and lived another twenty seven years.

Should have written this last Friday.