Showdows of the past

  

I find myself increasingly thinking about people locally I have not seen in a long time. Lockdown meant there were many people we did not see for months. In my case it was the school run, the shops or just out for walks. Many people I do not actually know I maybe gave a nod or a wave to. And given how many people lost their lives since the pandemic started there is a concern that there may be some once familiar faces in among them. Of course no doubt in the coming months I will probably see some of those I thought were gone.

One person who I do know is gone is "Auld Michael". He was a walker. I used to meet him sometimes and chat mostly about different walks here and he would tell me of some further afield. My wife actually knew him better and longer because when she worked in the Sport Centre he used to come in. And that is why I know he is passed now to COVID-19. My wife read of it on Facebook. He was funny. The last time we spoke I had to walk slightly ahead as we had the dog and he was going nuts as usual. Michael was telling my wife how he and his wife had been in Dublin and they were looking for a church they could not locate. He asked a local man the quickest way to get to this church and the man asked him if he was driving or walking. When he said driving the local replied: that's the quickest way.

But for every Michael there will be 10 others who are fine or more. The strange thing is there is a couple of times I thought I had seen him from a distance until I learned of the news. And yet part of me still expects it somehow. Like a friend and colleagues of my wife who I used to see too but died with cancer at the start of the pandemic. This is something maybe others are experiencing now. I used to have memory lapses about people when agoraphobia was severe. One time I could not remember how many kids my sister had- briefly I should say. I couldn't remember if my brother in laws parents had both died or whether it was just one. This happens when you get cut off and disconnected. I've had it for years but I am sure not through lockdown many others will be experiencing it. 

Its a strange old time and we are all trying to readjust again. Its not easy for anyone but for sure lots of had it very hard with this horrible virus whether directly or indirectly. Personally I feel blessed that so far we have not had anything to complain about. 

A photograph

 

Maybe it's Jenna. Maybe not. If not then who? Does it matter? No. I did find this photograph at the top of the stairs where I found that card. They could be connected. All else that is there is a dual carriageway so how did it get there?

At some time what looks like a young mother and her daughter posed for that snap. At least I think so it could have been a selfie. Snaps did used to mean something. We would treasure them because we paid to get them developed. Now 99% of what we all shoot I would say does not leave the digital realm onto paper. A through away snap then is maybe not as strange as it would have been a few decades ago. Yet this looks personal. It does not look like something that should be discarded and left for all to see. Sad in a way. 

Frances

  

When you try not to get too personal but need to for a subject matter it can be quite difficult to find the balance. There are things I think are OK but others might disagree. There are things too personal or even irrelevant. Opinions open to interpretation or biased too much in my own favour. Family can be a minefield in this medium. In the early days I used to post about the kids a lot but they are of an age now where they don't even like their picture being taken so I try to leave them out of it. 

And so I deliberated over this post for a number of reasons but here goes. The kids have been fortunate in that up until last year they had never known loss. They did lose an "aunt" but they had very little contact with her, she was actually their grandfather's aunt and they were too young to feel much of an impact. Last year was different. Last year they lost their maternal grandmother who was a very major figure in their life. She'd had her cancer diagnosis the year before and finally passed away in January of last year surrounded by her immediate family. The drawing above of her with my wife (her 3rd daughter) was drawn by my oldest so very much a 3 generational work.

The kids were devastated but not to the same degree as my wife who is still struggling a year on as they were very close. I don't think she will ever get over it. And I dont think the full impact has hit the kids yet but will in the coming years as she was their for all their major days in their lives. But with lockdown arriving shortly after this surreal limbo in between has meant they have not been up to their grandparents home often. It will take time. 

I will keep my part short and incomplete. I still can't get it into my head she is gone as she was there the last time I went north just like every other time over the past 20+ years. The only time I saw her after her diagnosis was at my home for a short visit one day. I didn't see the cruel deterioration this awful disease brings with it. I wasn't able to attend the funeral and that did not go down well so I have to carry that guilt with me. I also as a result did not get to see me son and his cousin give readings at the funeral which was a remarkable thing. For me she is still there and might always be because there are no guarantees I will ever get back up there. Its hard to process it really. 

What is done is done though and cannot be undone so I accept and move on but I doubt others will be as forgiving. I accept that too as it's not something I have the power to change. I would say it will drive me on to recovery again but my will has never changed and the outcome has never been shaped by effort. I just have to accept and hope that in time I'll get up north again to pay my respects as I intend to because I want to not because I am expected to 

Report card

 

Looking through some old stuff today I found an old report card from primary school. Just the 38 years old hand written if a little water damaged. Mostly decent. The roundup said I was mostly good but prone to lazy days. I note for English I was asked to read more. I didn't read at all so one book would have been more. I would have been eleven years old then. It would be another five years before I picked up a book out of boredom and never looked back. If only I'd listened to the advice earlier. 

Old road

 

A little annoyed at my own laziness yesterday I pushed myself out for my longest walk of the year so far. As expected it wasn't easy. Really it's not laziness but more a reluctance to make a moment uncomfortable when it does not need to be. Who would choose that? The answer is many people would and do. Many people in a far worse situation to myself with a harder path ahead have to put themselves into discomfort and beyond all the time. I needed a shake.

I went my usual route but tried to be more mindful rather than racing from A to B and back to A as quickly as possible. I tried to take it in and tried to take my time. This took me onto the old road which led to the Lido Gardens long before I moved here. Apologies if I have mentioned this before. The area at Bothwell Bridge was an area people many years ago congregated on a nice day to sit by the river, paddle and relax among the flowers and picnic I would imagine. Quite how they did it in that stinking brown river is beyond me. Or maybe they didn't. Maybe I am mistaken as there looks like a strong current.

Anyway an expressway was built to cut through the heart of it and above is all that remains of the original road to the Lido. Walls and pathing are original. What gets me is how wide it is. All paths in the area are too narrow. This is how it should be. I stood for a moment imagining happy families coming down this way. Ghosts of the past. Now it's so rundown and the noise of speeding cars is defeating. Life moves on. Not always for the better. 

Polar explorer

  

Not quite the Polar region this week but feels and looks like a hint of it. Enough to leave my print 5 minutes from home but not my print on the world in any way. Unlike the lady in an interview I was listening to on the radio. She is named Ann Daniels and is a "polar explorer"- I am unsure of the proper title. It wasn't something I had planned to listen to. As sometimes happens you have the radio or tv on on the background and get pulled in. Maybe it was my winter surroundings outside that helped but I could visualise some of the things she was saying clearly about her treks. I found it so fascination that I did plan to get her book as I thought she would have written but it appears there is not one. That is a pity. The interview segment was fairly short so it only touched the surface.

There are many things I found interesting but most fascinating of all was her solo expedition to the North Pole. The solitude and the elements are enough to be getting on with but what if one day you were out there alone and saw a polar bear? That got the hairs on the back of my neck standing. I just couldn't imagine it. That fear, alone. Yet she seemed calm and measured talking about it. As much as I'd like to think I would take the Brian Blessed approach of punching it on the nose (so he claims but if anyone would Brian would for sure) I think I'd be the fastest thing on ice instead. By the sounds of it she had learned enough to have the confidence to deal with the situation depending on what the bear done. That still takes some nerve. And I would assume from that would come a strength no one can teach. A calm inner strength. I really would love to read more. 

Goodbye 2020

  

Goodbye 2020 and good riddance. I can't imagine there is a person on the planet not glad to see the back of you. For me it had one memorable incident which I hope will make 2021 the start of a new chapter for me but aside from that I am glad we won't ever have to relive it. So goodbye, farewell, auf wiedersehen and adieu 2020. After a different Christmas than normal my family and I are out of isolation unscathed by that pesky virus which is still causing havoc.

With snow still on the ground my wife, the boy and I took the dog down the woods for an idyllic stroll on new years day. It was mainly that but for a group of youths numbering around 10 drinking mostly Buckfast tonic wine. At least one was ages with the boy, 12, because he knew him. We talked to one of the residents down there out with his dog who is blighted by these drunken youths. He was on his way home to call the police again to shift them. A regular occurance now unfortunately for that small clutch of houses down there, all residents are pensioners who get not an ounce of respect. 

We pushed on past and had a good walk though. The pup is getting more confident even if that bravado for us is balanced out by a selective deafness. But it was a good walk. I was unusually reluctant to go and keen to turn back but in time learned again to enjoy a walk as it quickly grew dark. It was the kind of long walk in the cold that deserves a hot bowl of soup and buttered roll at the other side but those are things we neglected to buy on our big shop. So instead it was edam and Branston pickle on crackers followed by a little nap on the sofa.