Although my life here has often felt it has been on hold during the past couple of months it has been moving apace as it always does, without my help. Despite my feeling numb at times and the frustration of waiting for my life to begin, it actually started a very long time ago. It seems like yesterday I was starting school. I remember that day really clearly, the fact the buildings seemed so big and yet they're miniture in comparison to most schools these days. The original school had been converted into the main hall and stood in front of the immaculate new building like a mask. Established in 1840, a lot of children, teachers and parents had passed through those doors. The village must have been small back then - just a handful of children, as the tiny hall was once split into two halves, separating the boys from the girls - it's still clearly marked on the outside of the building.
That school was like a home from home for me all those years; an extension of my family. I have nothing but happy memories from those times - a kind of "Cider With Rosie" childhood with all the joy, tears, fears and surprises that being young should contain. The only blot on those times was being thrown several yards along the road by a speeding car. She'd not seen me, I'd stepped out from behind a parked car - I'm pretty sure I'd learned my road safety - had my Tufty Club certificate, badge... But I'd spotted the boy who lived next door but one on the other side of the road. He was a year or so older than me and I had the biggest crush. I was 7 years old ..... 7 and walking to school by myself! Good God, my youngest only started walking to school by herself when she was 10 and the eldest didn't until she started senior school at 11. I guess the wicked world we live in now has made an over-protective Mother out of even the likes of me. Of course I lived to tell the tale of my RTA, no broken bones, just internal bruising, though my parents did have the anxiety of the possibility of my spleen being removed, but it was a false alarm. I spent a week in hospital, including my 8th birthday. It's the only time during my childhood I don't remember with affection. I guess it was because I was separated for the first time from my family - not only my home but those at school too. I was a very lucky child, gifted and popular - I lived a kind of charmed life I guess. I often wonder how I ended up where I am today but I guess the school of hard knocks is more of an education than any establishment.
So my youngest set off for camp last week. Such a different affair from when my first born went. No tears or fears, no packing for me, no worries at all that she might fall in the water or worse still just not want to join in with anything. Some how duirng all this crap known as single parenthood I managed to raise a smart, pretty, popular, independant young woman who at the age of 11 packed her own case, even called Nan to bring it over from her house and was even prepared to walk to school on her own that morning to meet the coach. My ankle is sufficiently healed now that I can drive but back then I'd not driven more than a couple of times. She wasn't assuming I'd feel able to first thing in the morning and was as pleased as punch when I told her "Of course I'll take you, I want to see you off". Surprisingly, my eldest said she was going to get up early and come with us. She'd finished school for good and had no reason to so. I was grateful she did because even though we arrived a good ten minutes before the scheduled time, most kids were already on the coach and the engine was running. I screeched to a halt at the corner of the road and both girls jumped out of the car - Lyns just about remembered to give me a peck on the lips. She was practically on the coach when the Nicole called to her that she didn't have her case. She then attempted to get back onto the coach case in hand - the Head Teacher came to her rescue and took it from her for the driver to put in the hold. There was much giggling and raising of eyes heavenward. I started to worry I wouldn't get parked in time to wave goodbye. I can walk, but not very quickly and with the engine running on the coach I couldn't be sure when it might pull away. I needn't have worried, Nicole and I were soon picking out her sibling from the little heads at the windows and trying to get her attention. As the coach pulled away I had a feeling of relief that she was on her way to her adventure and that I would have five days of peace with only one child to contend with and no one for her to argue with except me.
>> CONTINUED HERE - PART 2 <<
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| Camp, Prom & The Single Parent! : Part 1 |
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