On what would have been his birthday, I would like to tell you something of my hubby Fred and about ‘us‘. I do not want to bore you too much though so I will make it brief.
It seems like I had loved him always. He was a friend of my both of my brothers and at ten years older than I, a dark-haired handsome man with such beautiful blue eyes, he appeared to me to be something out of a fairy-tale.
Well, I got my prince, but there wasn’t any fairytale ending, not with my being nearly 16 and pregnant. All hell broke loose. It was early ‘60s, and at that time in my little part of the world, being pregnant and unwed was viewed as a big disgrace. Of course the usual thing to do would be a wedding followed by a ‘premature’ birth but my mum was having none of it. We were parted.
Fast forward
In 1973 we met up once again - I won’t bother with long explanations of the whys and wherefores - and found we still felt the same about each other and, yet once more causing a storm in my family, we finally married on October 20th.
Eight years we had together. Happy years? Mostly. He was the most maddening, awkward man and our rows were spectacular.
But we were also each other’s best friend and bad feelings never lingered. Besides we laughed and talked much more than we rowed,
That’s about it really. It has been a long time since he died, I didn’t think I could do it but, as he told me I would, I made a life for myself. I’m not the same person I was then and I don’t live in the past but always around this time of year memories nudge me. Sometimes a song, a film, sometimes maybe just a kind of smell in the air, springtime. And I remember, I remember Fred.
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12/02
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