Monday, 19 February 2007

Mum and Dad

When you start researching your family history you begin with yourself and work backwards. Next in line are your father and mother. So here are mine -

I lost my father when I was just five years old and have only vague memories of him but they are lovely ones. I remember I used to hide under the table when he was due home from work and he would come in and ask where I was and Mum would say she didn't know and then I would jump out shouting 'Boo' and he would laugh and dance me around the room. Sometimes he would put a record on the gramophone and I would stand on his feet and he would dance with me, usually to the strains of the Cuckoo Waltz. I used to have a toy sweet shop with little bottles, jars and packets and he would sit me on his knee and play shop with me. He took me to watch football - the ground was just around the corner on Filbert Street, I remember sitting on his shoulders. Sometimes Mum would take me to the centre of Leicester to the council house where Dad worked as a patisserie chef, we would stand on the street opposite and he would appear at an upstairs window and wave and smile at us down below. On the day of his funeral I was taken to the Museum on New Walk by a neighbour's children to see the giraffe and all the other stuffed animals. When I came back home the house was full of my relatives and I remember them all holding out their arms to me and smiling and saying my name. Mum was sitting in the corner by the fire with a blanket around her shoulders. Eventually she married again and we moved from Leicester to a small village in Derbyshire. A few years ago I went back to find that long street of terraced houses, with the Granby Halls at the top and the methodist chapel at the other end. It had gone - pulled down to make way for the hospital car park.

No comments:

Post a Comment