Page 30 - She's One Crazy Lady!

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m possessed a wonderful sense of
Dad
Dad had a very sad upbringing. Born in South Wales (and very proud of his roots) he lost his Mum when he was just two years old and with four sisters, he was, for a short time, brought up by his grandmother, ‘Edith’ who he said he loved because she had a wicked sense of humour – hence my middle name. He often said I resembled her. Young Dad was put into care for a short time and then lived with his Dad and his new, wicked stepmother, Blodwen. He wasn’t happy and aged just 14, not wanting a life down the mines like his father, he courageously left the Valleys for the bright lights of London and made his way in life taking on numerous jobs, serving in various cafés in and around Shepherd’s Bush where he served and waited on various RAF personnel who, Dad said, looked out for him. When he was old enough, and the war had started, Dad signed up for the RAF as a wireless operator and rear gunner, flying Stirlings. But tragedy struck. He and his crew, who he was very close to, were destined to go on a mission over Africa. Dad had an ear infection and was grounded. His crew were shot down and killed. This had a devastating effect on Dad’s mental health. He needed a
Mu“
When I was sixteen my siblings had left home. Going to technical college, then on to teacher training college and starting my teaching career, I didn’t leave home until I was 23 so Mum and I were able to spend more quality time together, especially as I had to earn my keep and work in the shops and on the market. Mum and I loved Sunday mornings when Dad would go to play golf. We would work like the clappers to get all the household chores sorted, baking cakes, changing the beds, cleaning the house, getting the Sunday roast on, always singing along together, often at the tops of our voices. Looking back, this was when we became best friends and confidantes. Furthermore, when I was diagnosed with breast cancer and was forced to take time off work, this was an added period of time that proved to be very special and significant. Dad had the early stages of Alzheimer’s roughly about the same time as my diagnosis, even though we had known for a few years that he wasn’t the Dad we knew anymore. Mum, who really had her work cut out in looking after Dad, was also experiencing sight problems (later to go blind) and had had a series of strokes.
God works in mysterious ways, doesn’t he?
Mum died in 2013.
More of our very special relationship will be revealed as my story
progresses.
humo”
ur.