Southend U3A

Moving day - Joan Bond

May 2011

The time has almost arrived to change direction. I have lived in this one house for sixty years and am now on the move to the North.

The seaside has always drawn me and I am on my way.

Firstly though one has to peruse all the accoutrements of that sixty years and discard all the detritus.

Thought the loft today. Up the ladder to survey the toot. My younger son Chris and family live up the road but, with five of them in a three bedroomed house, all the items they wished to keep drifted down to me.

Kate, the eldest granddaughter, on going to university couldn't take all her soft toys and books and school papers etc. to the small room she had been allocated. Her mother wouldn't part with all their baby clothes up to five, so three suit cases were filled with these items.

Their dad was a collector of clocks. For a brief spell he worked for the council and had the job of emptying flats. Chris couldn't bear to see old people's possessions thrown on the tip so brought photographs, clocks and some bric-a-brac home.

My other son Robert, now living in France, was a sailing buff so there was a sail, canoe and a funnel which he hadn't found the opportunity to take with him. He also had books posters and all the glory of university paraphernalia.

I should be relieved that Chris, who was also a motor cycle buff, hadn't kept all the parts removed from repairs, sometimes worked on the kitchen table.

Sitting here going through the remnants of my life, with my mum and dad and husband Bertie gone, why am I leaving the kids. They were upset but I had to do this. It had been a dream of thirty years and it was now or never. I expect I shall live to regret it but I will never know unless I do.

All the files and photograph albums to sort now.

The holidays were always logged, There were some great ones, commencing with seaside memories. The times we spent more days in the beach huts wrapped in blankets 'cause it was so cold on the beach. I knitted the lads and Bertie sets of jumpers all the same colours so I knew where they were. One year when Robb was three we could have cheerfully bought a bag of cement to put in the hole where he was playing to actually stick him to one spot on the crowded beach for an hour or two.

Bertie always had to leave at 5 o'clock in the morning for the holiday before the traffic, local trips were the same, we were the only ones on the beach at 6.30 in the morning. On a distance we had to go the pretty way and it would take all day just to reach Dorset. It would be, 'Aren't we there yet', 'When are we going to get there.'

Robb would always forget his pocket money until we sussed it was a way to save for later and didn't hand it out before arriving at the house.

Then the school reports; Robert was a goodie goodie and learning about everything was what he did and loved it. Chris on the other hand always wanted answers to the awkward questions, like, 'Ok, we started with the big bang, but what was it where did it come from'. Of course we all know that now, with all the scientific programmes, but then the masters hated him 'cause they didn't know either.

Only rebellion Robb made was long hair, especially in sixth form; now he has a monks tonsure - not chosen. Well, I have been up here for hours and nothing actually in black bags. I have the saying, 'If in doubt, chuck it out', so I will have to, or maybe I will lose the ladder and maybe the two lads who are moving in will not feel guilty. I hasten to add I had asked them all if they wanted to take it, but no reply and I was moving in ten days.