The other day, as we drove to the cinema, Richard and I had a conversation. Stone the crows I hear you say. But actually, we do sometimes converse – and in friendly tones. I was remarking on how far technology had come in the last thirty years and I wondered how far it would go, could go, in the next thirty years. I can see the day when we wave our hand and a hologram will play out before us. Emmerdale will be in the room. Cows will be calving on our rugs.
Richard then mentioned time travel and I said that would never be possible. But it did get me thinking. If time travel suddenly became possible where would we choose to go? Forwards? Backwards? For me, forwards holds little interest. I don’t want to go forwards to a time that I will never see. I work on the principle of ‘what you never had you never miss.’
No, I would choose to go backwards. And not to some far and distant past. I would choose to go back to 23rd March 2007 – the day when my father died.
My father was a good man. He raised a family of three and worked hard all of his life supporting us and mum. He was quite a hard man. I think people of dads era were, mostly. Dad had been in the war and I have his medals in a drawer upstairs. He had eight years of being ‘poorly’ but it didn’t phase him at all. He just got on with it. But with each passing year came further problems. He had a ruptured aorta and by some miracle and the expertise of the Intensive Care Ward pulled through. They saved his life but during the operation his kidneys were damaged and although he recovered he was never the same. As I said, he was a tough old sod. He never said he loved me. And it wasn’t in his nature to fawn over us. We grew up thinking that was the right thing to do, never show our feelings. That little quirk has caused me problems all of my life – until I saw the error in it.
Dad was in hospital on his eighty-fourth birthday and he died two days later. I had sat with him from 3.00 am Friday morning until 5.00pm in the afternoon. During this time I was informed that they could do no more for him and that he was in a coma and dying. They told me he wouldn’t die ‘for a good while yet’ so I decided to pop home and feed the animals etc and come straight back. I kissed dad on his head and said I’d be back – but if he had to go before I returned to look out for mum and his two retrievers, Rhia and Seta. I told him they would all be waiting for him on some golden hill somewhere.
Dad died before I reached home.
If I could pop into my time-travel capsule I would return to that day. I would hold his hand. And I would be there when his journey began. Dad told me three times on that day that he loved me and I would love to hear those words again.
But knowing dad he would probably have found some way round it. He wouldn’t have wanted us crying over him and showing weakness. As it was I cried alone, in my bedroom, solidly, for an hour. And I still cry now because I miss the old sod and his pretend, stiff, upper-lip.
Whoa! This is becoming way too serious. This is all Richards fault – again! He was the one who mentioned time travel. I was happy enough watching cows calving on the rug in front of the fire.
Actually, I know I’m not alone in this. I can imagine many of you wishing you could go back and have just one more day, one more hour with loved ones? Maybe, one day it will be possible but I think that a far better bet is to give our loved ones a bloody good cuddle now and drop the attitude and let them know how much we love them?
Back to normal tomorrow.
Take take my lovelies x