Last of the Summer Wine

Memories are weird. They jump out at you from no where and depending on their purpose they can sometimes be a welcome hug and other times be that pesky ghost you just can’t exorcise. Ever had one of those? Nightmares, I tell you.

The title of this post comes from just that. I was staring out of the window watching the petals fall off the pretty pink flowers on a tree that probably considers us scoundrel murderers given we’ve neglected to water it so often – note to self, after writing post go water pink petal pete (it’s his new name, we just came up with it – you and I, that is) before he enacts his revenge. What was I talking about? Oh yes, out of window, in to mind.

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I was all a sudden no longer sat on the sofa in the US looking out at the garden, I was instead sat around the dinner table back in England, my three brothers and my parents all eating our Sunday roast while watching Last of the Summer Wine. Brief flashes of images: a fork piercing a roast potato and juices flowing out, one twin brother nudging the other with his elbow – he wanted the last one damnit, my mom and dad laughing at the screen and me copying my eldest brothers every move, even down to how he ,a left-handed person, would eat (I still eat with my knife and fork in the opposite hands to most right-handed people). Bicycles, elderly people laughing and leaning over walls – are they elderly or is that how my younger mind saw them?

Whenever my husband and I were to do something different such as visiting Diamond Head with my dad, or going to Honolulu and sitting on Waikiki Beach, or playing together at Dave and Busters, I would always think, and sometimes say, “these will be great memories!”. But they’re rarely the memories that come back to me or make me start putting together the blueprints for a time machine.

It’s the quieter ones, the normal ones, the ones that sneak up on an unsuspecting mind. Huh, that sounds pretentious, it wasn’t supposed to sound pretentious!

Walking down the steps at the airport and seeing the huge smile on his face after we’d been apart for months, trying to squish together on the sofa for warmth and cuddles while watching yet another awful horror film, Seb seeing him for the second time and greeting him with licks and kisses before diving into his suitcase and fishing out her gifts!

Sitting around the dinner table with my family watching TV…

I haven’t actually seen my brothers in some time, I haven’t even met my now one-year-old niece. When I wrote that bdd had taken a lot from me, this is also what it has taken. I have been in the house at the same time as my brothers and been unable to see them, or, unable for them to see me is probably more accurate. So, maybe this memory of being back with them came from that, or maybe it came from one of my brother’s messaging me to say he misses me. I don’t know. I just hope that soon I’ll be able to make more of those quiet memories, the ones that in my heart really matter.

Here is a picture of us as children in paper masks my dad made.

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Halloween was always an event in our house. We would dress up, bob for apples, fish matchsticks out of flour, tell ghost stories and much more. This will be the first Halloween I get to spend with my husband and although I’m sure we’ll be staying in (well, for the most part – more on that to come) I can’t wait to watch some ghosties and eat wayyyy too many sweets!

Now excuse me while I go belt out Memories from Cats.

One thought on “Last of the Summer Wine”

  1. Memories have a way of sneaking up on us. Its sometimes unfair how they can knock us for a loop. These sound like precious memories you speak of. We are doing the same for Halloween although if I could I would go trick or treating again 😁

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