So yesterday, the day dawned on my day of departure from Yorkshire on what promises to be the hottest day of the year with temperatures in the 30’s (or what used to be the 90’s in Fahrenheit) I got up at 6.00am and I rather like packing up to go home if only because the ‘chaos’ of a hotel bedroom gets reduced and reduced as an orderly packing takes place. I have received a text from my son this morning asking for my ETA so that he can pick me up at Bromsgrove station and I have a birthday card prepared for our domestic help whose birthday it is on 21st June which is always an easy date to remember. Once packed up, relatives will call to give me a hearty breakfast (although I have been filled with excellent food and drink over the past few days) and I will certainly return to ‘The Crown’ which has been superb for me in my stay. I intend to ask them at the desk if they have a ‘frequent stayer’ discount as I will be here again in August ready for my sister’s birthday party for which I have helped to get a forward planning date in the diary of the care home manager. On my way home, I will of course have my copy of ‘The Times’ and a host of happy memories upon which to reflect. In particular, my relatives have told me of the wonderful memories that they had of Meg and, in particular, her smile which they always so heartfelt on the occasions that they met. What I have learned is that the wife of one of my nephews is a fully trained psychotherapist and grief counselling is her ‘bread and butter’ as it were. Having said that, she thought that all my strategies were working excellently but it is wonderful to know that when bad times strike, which they may, she will be always be available at the end of a phone line. She herself had a series of miscarriages and they now have an adopted son who is doing very well for himself so she knows whereof she speaks. Having told them the story of my mother’s upbringing, they have implored me to commit it all to paper so that the account that I gave them the previous evening is not ‘lost’ but is available for other family members. They may well have a point but I have to find (or make) the time. I might explore whether a dictation to text facility on my computer with Windows 11 is a good way of getting the basics down on to paper, but we shall see. It is true that they have other accounts of my mother’s history but as my mother told m a lot of things directly when I was helping to rehabilitate her after she had a broken hip, they are inclined to believe my account straight from ‘the horses mouth’ rather than other fragmentary bits of story that they have.
After I had got all packed up and my room vacated, I was met by one of my nieces and her husband who had promised to take me out for a breakfast. I had a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs on some sourdough bread after which we went for a little walk around the immediate beautiful little shops and thence I got transported to the station. Another nephew dropped by with my precious hat I had inadvertently left behind at his house and I caught the little train to Leeds but this was running a little late. By the time I had located the main Glasgow to Plymouth cross country train and my allocated seat, I had managed to get there with only one minute to spare. The train was absolutely heaving which is typical for a Friday and I had to ask people to remove their large suitcases which was blocking the passage way and then turn out someone who was sitting in my allocated seat. So it wasn’t a very pleasant cross-country journey to Birmingham New Street but then the onward journey to Bromsgrove was on a quiet train and I was delighted that my son was on the platform to pick me up and run me home. I spent most of the afternoon unpacking and getting things put into their rightful place but I ensured that each member of the Yorkshire family were both thanked and also informed them that I had got home safely. After this intense social activity, following hard on the heels of the funeral, the next week or so is going to seem extraordinarily quiet so I have to make ensure that I can keep myself busy and not mope.I knew that I would return home to some interesting mail and I had received two identical letters from the Teachers’ Pensions Agency telling me that my claim for a continuation of a portion of Meg’s pension would be delayed somewhat until the implications of a court case (the ‘Goodwin’ ruling) had ben taken into account so that a recalculation of Meg’s pension could be made. I am relieved that at least my application is in the system and receiving attention and I have to hope that in the fulness of time everything will be backdated although I am evidently short of the contribution that Meg’s pension made to our finances in the short term. It had been my intention to get myself turned around following my short Yorkshire stay and then, perhaps, to have a holiday in Spain to see my dearest friends. But I may stay my hand for a week or so to see if the Teacher’ Pension Agency come up with the goods and then I will be a position to work out what is both feasible and affordable.
I am going to treat myself to an hour of ‘Today at the Test’ where England or playing India. As my train was passing through the Headingly and adjacent station in the morning, a variety of fancy dress cricket fans were already in evidence. In the past we have had crusader knights, nuns, bananas and equally bizarre outfits but perhaps the TV cameras will be give a little licence to roam across the crowd so that we can see what is ‘de rigueur’ in the 2025 test matches. As alcohol is strictly controlled, it could well be that those in fancy dress have already imbibed well before they even set foot in the ground.