Tuesday, November 10, 2009

A Week in England Part I


Last week I went home to England to visit my family, especially my father who has terminal cancer. My brother, Greg, and I had arranged to be there at the same time and it was with extreme trepidation and fear that I entered the house when Mum opened the door. Dad was right behind her and I had to quell the shock I felt at seeing him so frail. During the many hugs, I managed to regain my composure and treat Dad the same as usual and not as an invalid. Of course the first thing to be done was to put the kettle on and enjoy two cups of tea, made with real tea, not teabags. Heaven!
The rest of the day was spent chatting and catching up, punctuated with more pots of tea and snacks. At the end of the evening, after more hugs with Mum and Dad, Greg and I left to go to our B&B and grab a last pint at the local to ponder over the day. We were both grieved to see how badly the cancer had attacked our father and resolved to play each day by ear.
Next day meant Sunday lunch at a pub, but Dad insisted we go with Mum and leave him behind. Mum gave us a knowing look so we didn't argue too much, but I felt awful at leaving him behind sitting in the lounge dozing.

The pub was a favorite of our parents and popular for its food. Check out the website for food & photos. It is a typical country style pub and it was great to see the fire already ablaze even though it wasn't really cold.

Despite Greg and I already having scarfed down a fabulous cooked breakfast of sausages, bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, toast and marmalade washed down with a pot of tea, we were ready to attack a proper roast dinner. 
We found a table by the window despite the place being busy and settled to wait for our food. Inevitably, we started talking about Dad, and unfortunately I lost it and completely broke down. Mum was great and steered the conversation to how her mother and father met before the war. I was so fascinated that I managed to regain my composure before the food arrived.


This was my beef with yorkshire pudding, horseradish sauce and gravy before I heaped roast and new potatoes and succulent vegetables on the plate accompanied by wine. I really don't know how I put it all away, but then Mum insisted that we have the sticky toffee pudding to finish. Not wanting to miss out, I joined Mum for desert and we ordered one to take home for Dad. Outside the pub, we admired the views, while I admitted I'd rather overdone it as my tummy cramped up. 

This is the view across the fields of the Horton Folly Tower , also mentioned on the pub's website under The Walk. Amazingly, the car managed to get us back home without the wheels buckling or suspension sagging, and Dad got to enjoy his pudding.
The next day, after yet another massive breakfast, Greg and I arrived at Mum and Dad's where we spent a few hours. We then went out for a drive to some local seaside towns and by late afternoon, we arrived at Mudeford, a beautiful little coastal town.

The chalk cliffs are part of the Isle of Wight in the English Channel, with the Seven Sisters jutting out to the right. The sun was nearly setting with dark skies pressing down. The wind was high and rain whipped across the quay but it was ominously wonderful to see the sea crashing with seagulls hanging above us. Mum and I walked around the quay so I could shoot some quick photos while Greg and Dad went to the pub to order the pints.

 
These are the fishermens' cottages and at the far end, they have a seawall built surrounding them to keep the sea out during inclement weather. 
 
These are the beach huts used in summer by people on the beach to get changed in or use as shelter. They can be rented but many are owned and can reach high prices . Inside the tiny pub, we sat enjoying our beer and the fire, and had many laughs. We drove onto another pub later which hosts murder mystery evenings in its own Pullman carriage parked at the side.


We were all enjoying the beer, and I didn't find out until the next morning how much Dad had consumed but he stayed lucid and upright, even insisting that he have a cigarette. It was like back in the old days when we'd all go drinking together, an experience I'm sure he was trying to recapture and one he achieved. I'm also sure that Dad had this planned and that was why he stayed at home the day before, conserving his energy. I know now as I type this, that evening was probably the last fun event we'd share as a family where we all laughed and hugged refusing to let an illness dampen the day.

1 comment:

kemp-y-QUA!! said...

beautiful pictures and a sweet accounting of your time with family. i enjoyed your bit about the pub at the end. Im glad you have that pleasant memory to hold onto.