Monday, 25 April 2011

My Life - Early years part 2

My early child hood was good fun. We lived in a community in a part of Wrexham called Rhosddu.

Ours was an end terrace, victorian design and overlooked the railway. We were also quite close to Wrexham Football Club so I quite enjoyed sitting on my front wall watching the supporters come and go.

When I was scared at night, I would take myself to my mums room which was at the front of the house and the sound of the trains, together with the lights of passing cars would soothe and comfort me.

We had lots of friends around there and we had areas where we could play. Our house backed onto a rough communal track which we called the "Red Backs"  (bet you can't guess why) and over the main road called East Avenue there was the "White Backs" but we weren't allowed there.

Quite often mum would send us to Mrs Ankers sweet shop for supplies. Off we would go with our note and our money and if we were lucky we were allowed to spend a penny or two on bubble gum or those little fizzy sweets.

Mrs Ankers sweet shop was a delight to go into. She was a lovely lady with white hair and dark glasses and although her shop was small it was stacked high with shelves and shelves of sweets in jars. The "expensive" confectionary was under the glass counter. There was another sweet shop near us called Mrs Higgins shop but for some reason I never favoured that one. I think the attraction of seeing those shelves full of sweets was just too compelling.

There was an old man who used to walk up and down New Road and we called him "won a pound". He wasn't quite with it, I am not sure why but he would walk up and down the road saying "won a pound yesterday". Totally harmless character so it was sad when he was found dead.

Mr Jones was another favourite of mine, he lived in the houses which faced our school. He couldn't walk very far but he would shuffle to the front of his house to watch passers by. Every time I saw him he would ask me the same question "whats your name" to which I replied "Sara" and then he would give me a mint and start singing "che Sara Sara what ever will be will be" - to this day, whenever I hear that song I think of old Mr Jones.

Sunday, 24 April 2011

My Life - Early Memories

Anyone who knows me, knows that my memory is dreadful, even more so following chemotherapy! I struggle to recall things that others find easy. However I do have the odd sketchy memory.

One of my earliest memories is when I must have been around the age of 2.... My mum was in hospital for a couple of months with complications having my baby brother Gareth. All I remember is coming out of a florist shop, I was insistant on carrying the bouquet of flowers which was bigger than me, then negotiating the door way. I can still see the doorway in my mind and the triangular bouquet of flowers which must have been intended for my mum. I know that someone was offering to help me but I was adamant that I wanted to carry the flowers myself.

As I write, I have just remembered an even earlier event... I must be on a roll!

I used to follow my mum around like a shadow, where ever she went, I went. I had a particular blue stool which I liked, it was sort of like an old fashioned milking stool, painted turquoise with chips all over it, rather tatty really. I started to follow mum around with my stool so that I could sit down with her as she did her jobs.

One day, mum had gone upstairs and I followed with my stool. I remember that it was quite heavy and by the time I reached the top I had to rest. It was at this point that I fell......

I tumbled down the stairs from top to bottom, luckily the stool didn't follow suit! I took myself to a corner in the hall and was violently sick..... I remember the pretty coloured tiles on the victorian floor. Apparently my mum wrapped me up and ran with me to the hospital but I was fine..... obviously!!!

I also remember being smuggled into hospital to see my Auntie Hazel who was in hospital and really wanted to see me. They didn't allow children into hospitals in those days so my dad smuggled me in underneath his brown raincoat with my little legs trying to keep up with his.

When mum was in hospital she used to watch me and my older brother Peter play outside through the window, she said that the hardest part of being poorly was not being able to see us for months. I found this hard too as I was only 2 at the time and this period in our lives left an indelible mark on me.

I do recall screaming for my mum and bouncing on her bed like a wild baby tiger on all fours, pounding and pounding the bed with all of my might. I remember my Great Auntie Lizzie, hands on hips, trying to get near me with no success and eventually giving up, leaving me on my own until eventually, exhausted, I fell asleep cuddling a piece of mums clothing. I remember that as though it was yesterday although that incident took place 42 years ago. It left me with a deep sense of insecurity......

My Life

I recently had an appointment with a locum doctor at our surgery. I had to give her a quick potted history of my life and the response was thought provoking for me. She basically said "wow, I am amazed how good you look considering what you have been through..."

This prompted me to think about my life and the things that have happened to me and thought that maybe I should use my blog to tell my story thus helping me to come to terms with things and accept myself for the person I am today.

The one problem I have is..... how honest should I be????

This is one part of the story I am struggling with because by being honest I may hurt feelings and I don't want to do that.... however.... I don't want to lie either or gloss over things which have had a major impact on me.

Maybe I shall ponder a while longer........