Happy New Year! Making Memories

“Oooh, isn’t this a luxury!” said party-pooper me as we turned off the light and snuggled into our pillows. It was 11 p.m on Sunday 31^st December, and a night at home had seemed the perfect conclusion to our quiet Christmas week. Such a contrast to our normal busy lives…

Not that we’d hidden ourselves away completely. We’d spent a day in Harrogate visiting Jane’s sister Heather. Together, we visited Auntie Brenda in her care home, then welcomed Heather’s daughter Diana who called with her 4-year-old daughter Francesca. We gave them a decorative ‘sleigh and reindeer’ lamp containing an array of small LED bulbs. The package was topped by a small circle of polystyrene. With a dexterity that amazed me, Francesca turned this into tiny particles that blanketed the room as if it had snowed.

“Uncle John,” she remarked, “you’re the smallest grown-up in the room.” (I’m only 5 ft 4 in). “You must be a baby grown-up!” And I returned home, basking in the glow of this affirmation.

-o-O-o-

Our quiet New Year soon burst into life. Three days later, grandson Sam (now aged 7) arrived with our son, Martin, who left the following morning.

It was decided that Sam needed some exercise so Grandpa John was invited to take him to the nearby field for a kick-around. After we’d fired penalties across the soaking grass for 20 minutes, three boys aged about 10-11 years old showed up, and challenged us to a game. Sam and the older of the boys played against the two younger ones, with me as referee. To balance up the sides, I joined the younger boys. Here I experienced something strange – I knew exactly what my body needed to do to reach the ball, to tackle, to kick. But it was too stiff to obey my commands. And when, once too often, I tried to wheel around, I fell splat on my back into the soup that formed the top surface of the playing field. A cold, damp sensation spread upwards through my horizontal body. And when I got up, half of me was coloured brown. But it was fun, in an odd sort of way…        

That evening we were presented with a neatly wrapped package, inside which lay a cardboard box labelled “Merry Chocolate inside”.

We opened it to find, to our delight, a homemade selection box of hemispheres in white, milk and dark chocolate. They’d been made by Sam, mum Rachel and sister Grace. We sampled them and they were gorgeous, made with thick, tasty, good quality chocolate with imaginative fillings.

The accompanying sheet (largely in Sam’s handwriting) read:

Next day, Friday, we visited Eureka, the National Children’s Museum (or should it be play

centre?) in Halifax, which Sam looks forward to. In contrast, on Saturday he came with us to the Industrial Museum, with its enthusiastic volunteers. He practiced weaving socks on machines manufactured in Halifax nearly 100 years ago. Altogether, he enjoyed it, although on the feedback form he asked us to say that he wished the staff hadn’t been so patient with their explanations!

On Sunday morning, we were both playing music in church so he sat in the children’s corner and ‘worshipped’ by drawing the Amazon River with a sea monster’s head in it, also creating a basket out of white paper and (top right) a clasp of some description.

Our Ukrainian guests Anastasia and Olena had returned from holiday on Saturday night. On Sunday afternoon they joined us at Brighouse Pool where Olena came in with us to enjoy the fun session. Olena and Sam slithered their way easily along the inflatable. The attendants kindly allowed me and Jane to have a go. We both fell off – it was SO slippery. I insisted that no sea monster would get the better of me – oh no! Somehow I managed to crawl along it and up into the creature’s mouth, but I was too stiff to reposition my ageing body. I almost collapsed back down its throat. With a long queue of patient kids watching my painful struggle, I finally slithered down its tongue into the water.

“Was that worth it?” asked Jane. “It certainly was!” I replied.

Times like this are so precious. You can’t put a value on making memories.