February 2013
17.11.71
What a day it has been! wrote Joe. Such an incredible day. A memorable day. A very special day. Although it didn't start out that way.
7am: I left home as usual to go to work, it was a rather wet and miserable morning. The train was delayed but not by too much.
10am: I was called to the office to see the boss. I have only been at the firm for two years, so felt a little anxious. Mr. Hardcastle met me at the door, welcomed me in and offered me a seat. He said how pleased he was with my attitude and dedication to the job, and felt it was time for me to have a promotion with quite a good pay rise. I was amazed. The money certainly would come in very useful.
12noon: I met my father for lunch and told him my good news, he also was very pleased, as he had found me the job at the firm he has worked at for twenty years. We went along to the bank for a meeting with manager, where our application for a mortgage was accepted. More good news, this meant we would be able to buy the Council House we shared.
The afternoon passed quickly and soon I was able to go home and share the welcome news with my mother and wife. Things are looking up for us all.
7pm: I watched the match, would you believe it my team Leyton Orient won their game 4-0, it was a super game, the best they have played for some time.
9pm: I took Suzanne into the hospital, where 4 days early she gave birth to our beautiful daughter. Elizabeth Anne after her two grandmothers.
What a day it has been!
21.11.12
What a day it had been. Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in front of her. Four days ago she had been celebrating her 41st birthday; it had been a lovely day with a few surprises. But today had been a really busy day, spending much of it in her car, rushing around.
10am: She had collected her grandfather Bert from the hospital and driven him to the nursing home just down the road. This was going to be his new home now, where he could be looked after properly after his operation.
12noon: She had picked up the tickets that Mark had booked for their flight to Edinburgh on Saturday.
2pm: She had gone round to her old home to help her father pack up everything, see it taken by the removal van, then driven her parents to their new bungalow just round the corner. That was when Joe had given her the wooden box. Full of special things, he had told her.
Elizabeth had sat at the kitchen table so she would have room to take the things out of the box to look at them carefully. She had found all sorts of objects from her childhood . . . her first bootees . . . her first drawing . . . her first letter. At the bottom she had found the note Joe had written on the day of her birth.
6pm: Mark had come home and made them both a coffee, and had joined her at the table. He had been fascinated by the things in the box.
6.30pm: Jack, their son, had phoned to say that he had taken Amy to Edinburgh hospital where she had just given birth, 4 days late, to their lovely daughter. Elizabeth Joanne after her two grandmothers.
Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table, looked at her husband and smiled.
What a day it had been. An incredible and memorable day. A special day.