TWO LIVES – A MEMORY OF CHILDHOOD

 

TWO LIVES – A MEMORY OF CHILDHOOD

“Ready”, the old man said. The boy took the his hand and the two of them slowly left the house.

They crossed the Bricklayers Arms railway bridge, on to the Old Kent Road where, just beyond the Thomas a Becket and discreetly hidden from view, was a small park; with a circular patch of grass, a path running round and benches carefully placed at regular intervals.

This was not a park for the young. The old man sat down with a grunt and simply said, “Go on off you go and play”. The boy did as he was told and began fighting imaginary enemies in his Spitfire – whee, whee, whee, ttttttttt…..

The old man rested his on his stick and stared off into the distance but without seeing.

“What the fuck’s it all been about. Look at me an old man, but inside I still want……..”

“Yes, what do you want?”

“I don’t know – something different – not to be like everyone else”

“Christ, you’ve been going on about this for more years than I care to remember. Well you had your chance”.

“What, America?”

“Yes, America”

“Why did I ever come back”

“Let me think now……how about something to do with leaving your wife alone with a child and another on the way, does that ring a bell?

And then a few years later, at 35 years old and now with 4 children, you volunteer for the army and away you go again, off to war.

Well, it’s too late to do anything about it now, so just be grateful for what you’ve got”

I can’t, I just can’t……

A little later the boy came back and sat down next to the old man, who continued looking into space.

The boy looked round the park, and saw that many older people sat on the benches, solitary and unmoving.

He looked up at the old man, but said nothing. He was a good boy – no questions, no demands – he just sat on his hands, swinging his feet, and hummed tunelessly wondering what was for tea.

After a while the old man got up, held out his hand and the two of them slowly started for home.

On the way, no words passed between them, the one with a life yet to unfold, the other a life that might have been.

The boy in the story is me and I am now the age my grandfather was when we made these short journeys to the park over the months before he died.

Unlike my grandfather, I do not look back on my life with regret. However, in recent times, I too have begun to look into the distance without seeing. Like him I also feel a great loss, but not for a life less lived but for the loss of my wife, Anni.

We were together for 45 years. She was my greatest friend and a woman for whom life had to be lived. It sounds hackneyed, but we were meant to be together and, together, we lived a life that bought us immense joy and happiness.

Anni died on 16^th September 2022, and since that day, joy has gone out of my life. So, yes, I sometimes look into the distance without seeing and recall the times we had together, from which tears flow and feeling of grief comes over me that is hard to bear.

My darling girl, I love you and always will.

In Memoriam: Ann Maria Neal b. 02.10.50 d. 16.09.22