Yellow month

Apart from the day the glaziers took the roof off the conservatory, it hasn't rained much this month and the leaves are yellow and gently falling.  In this photo, 38 years ago, the weather was similar. The rain held off and the leaves gently fell.  It was a good day and the start of a good life.
The men of this somewhat yellow photo have fallen now.

Travelling

Travelling was the order of the day that first Christmas. The priest at Christmas mass reminded us of those travellers to Bethlehem. And I remembered that we'd travelled to see my parents, my daughter had travelled to get home to us, that the roads of England were chockablock with travellers for Christmas.

Last year we fetched my parents to us, but this year they are too frail to make the journey, even if we fetch them, so devoted husband suggested that we went up there and did Christmas for them, and aged aunty. Husband loves baking Christmas cake, mince pies, plum pudding, and willingly did the turkey, trimmings and vegetables. Then on Boxing Day we went to watch Mother Goose in the Georgian theatre with aged aunty. Aged aunty enjoyed it - it was her suggestion that we went to the pantomime, though she complained the fun was spoilt by an older woman who wanted her to come in the lift with her as if aunty were a hundred!

And now we've travelled home again, leaving parents quiet for a few days before my brother visits them.

60th Wedding Anniversary

My parents celebrated their diamond wedding anniversary. Too old to organise it, too tired, too fragile, they weren't going to do anything, and when my brother #2 asked told him so, and said,

"You want something, you organise it."

And he did. He and his lovely wife organised us getting up there, booked our hotel, contacted our cousin to borrow her holiday cottage for some of us, arranged the evening meal, ferried elderly parents and aunt to and fro. He even told the Queen and she sent a card of congratulations.

We had a celebratory mass in the morning, followed by lunch on the church lawn with the St Vincent de Paul Society people helping. (Did you know how much this charity does for old people and others that are excluded? They work quietly, behind the scenes, visiting, liaising with families, driving people to events or doctors when they can't get there themselves.)

In the evening, the family shared a meal at a local hostelry, toasted the happy couple. It's nearly my brother #1 and his wife's 30th anniversary, and they brought out the card that my parents had given them 30 years ago, where they'd written,

The first thirty years are the worst

Brother and wife brought original card, and added their annotation:

You were right
The first thirty years were terrible. Any tips for the next thirty years?

My cousin wrote and sang a song for us.

Happy anniversary
to a couple most fair
to Jean and Joe
a diamond pair!

It was great seeing my family together, my family that lives in America and came over for the occasion, my cousin and his wife, my sister and every one. We exchanged casual news over Yorkshire beers, learned where we are with our jobs at the moment, and who has a new partner and where people are living or planning to move to, or what people are studying at the moment. I miss some of them, living far away.

This was a lovely opportunity and a happy occasion. And I hope that my brother #1 and his wife have a lovely 30th (pearl) wedding anniversary next month.

Terrible trio leave church

I took three of my favourite octogenarians to mass. Afterwards, coming out - well not coming out because I was till talking to me mum, who was telling me a story - which I now forget because I was distracted to see my Dad charging off. When he gets on the straight, his two sticks and two legs go,

tap tap tap tap.

He hared off down the aisle to the church door where a crowd would obstruct his way and he might topple. I abandoned mother and hared off after him - cleared the way and met Father J, our friendly parish priest that the door greeting people. I warned him that Dad couldn't let go of his sticks. Father J patted his shoulder in greeting and as I dashed out of the door to check Dad's way to the car, I warned Father to say his name to my mother as she wouldn't be able to see him!

With Aunty trotting docilely along behind us we arrived safely at the car. Dad fell into the front seat fairly gracefully. Mother wanted to go round to the far side on the road, and can more or less see the traffic but I went round to check. Then back to the pavement to close doors on Dad and Aunty, but where I found Aunty collapsed against the car. She was having a dizzy spell!

As we drove off, me Mum said that'd be the last Xmas that I'd invite four octogenarians. Well maybe in a couple of Christmases I'll have some nonagenarians to entertain me.

Growing old

My mother's loosing her sight. So's my father. She's got the dry type of macular degeneration. They can't do anything for it. My father needs a magnifying glass to read the computer, or any official papers - none of which are ever written big enough.

His sister remarked sadly how he always used to have a book in his hands.

My mother can't see the smudges on her own clothes, but depends on someone else to warn her. If someone comes up to her in the street to say hello she doesn't know from looking at them who it is, so she's asked people to say their name, but they forget she can't see. I forget.

My mother now can't comment on what I'm wearing, whether I look business-like or smart. I miss that. We forget she can't see us, so my father nods when she asks a question, or says things like, "I'm just putting this here" and she can't see what this is or where here is.

I mustn't come into the room silently because she may not hear me, either because she doesn't hear too well now, or because she's listening to tapes. My father has discovered BBC podcasts and is going to download some to burn to a CD for her to listen to on her mp3 player. You need a good friend like that when your facilities fail you and you get dependent on others.

Old age

My father skyped me. My octogenarian parents are computer savvy. They were using word processors in the nineteen eighties and have been using email for years. They like using Skype, and my mother bought me a video camera so she could see me when she skypes.

But Dad said that his eyesight has got very much worse, very quickly over the last few weeks, and now he can't read a newspaper. When he eventually got his camera working on Skype, I could see him peering over it with his magnifying glass. I hope there are lots of web sites with big print that says, 'press here for automatic text reading.'

And he's grown a beard! Last time he had a beard was in the 1970s, though he had a red moustache in the 1950s. He looks good with his grey beard.

Freshers' Parents Lunch

We had an unanticipated invitation to Hertford College this month. It read:

The Principal and Fellows of Hertford College, Oxford
request the pleasure of your company at
THE FRESHERS' PARENTS LUNCH
On Saturday 12th May 2007
Drinks in the The Principal's Lodgings - 11.30 - 1.00pm
Lunch in Hall - 1.00pm

Son was pleased to meet us, and we had the chance to meet his fellow student who comes from the town where my parents now live. Husband and I had interesting chat with him and his parents. The meal was lovely, the wine appropriate, the company good. After the meal, son gave us a tour of the college, before we wandered off to the covered market to pick up something interesting for supper. What luck! How nice.

It seems that the university is making new efforts to open itself to the world, so others can better understand it.