Pretty new to this blog thing. Seems odd to write things, press a button, and see a published page appear. Cheap and cheerful. Or in my case not. I realise in recent weeks I’ve come across as a grumpy old git. Not the peace loving hippy I really am. So. For a change. I’m going all out self indulgent.
Hard to think I live with 3 of the funniest people I’ve ever met. Well I do. Laughter all day long. I accept that a lot is directed at me but I guess that’s in the parental job description. I’m way past the tipping point of winning sprints or arm-wrestles so I’m pretty much a sitting target now. The hilarity of being unable to get out a chair first time or needing crutches again after the gammy knee gives way again has slapstick written all over it. But I guess it’s just desserts.
April Fools Day is just another day although I did give it a right good go this year. Convincing a 17 year old that a hedgehog is nesting under the car was a big win – especially when the hedgehog was an apple with pumpkin seeds for spikes. Reprising the stunt is never as good so in fact we settled on just putting down obligatory milk and bread for the little mite to the further disgust of my wife.
You see, family is the complete focus of my world. I’m unable to work so have the best opportunity to enjoy it, as guilty as that may sound. I always felt I did. But as time goes on that feeling gets greater. Of course I worry about how things will be after the boys leave home. However Mrs H is the epitome of Welsh cutting humour. God it hurts sometimes. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I have a beautiful sister. We were the closest in age and have never had an argument. There was no real distinction between our friends when growing up. Mum and Dad kept an open door policy and it was often strange to think the numbers of friends in the front room just happened to be ‘passing by’. She understands my mental health issues as comprehensively as my housemates. Having her near helped me cope with the deaths of my Mum and Dad but also of our older sisters.
Mum and Dad had difficult lives until they found each other. I guess they were a bit long in the tooth to be so tolerant of a naughty little boy, yet they were so full of fun. Dad nursed Mum through an awful illness called PSP with love, care and bravery. When it was his turn to face ill health my sister kept him going and then we made sure he didn’t have a day that he didn’t see either of us despite us both living some distance away. Remembering the good times can be hard yet I look at my sister and think they must have got everything right.
I don’t have too many close friends. 3 in fact. All loving and able to see me and not illness where others struggle. A childhood friend residing in California. A friend through sport who phoned me every single day during my Dads illness. And M. I did my nurse training with him. Patient, calm and ever present. All 3 put loyalty above everything. Without these special people my world would be totally enclosed.
Middlesbrough is a football club miles away shrouded in dreams. The Bipolar club whose fortunes are more unpredictable than my moods. Yet these passions keep me going. The summer breaks are as uncomfortable now as when I played. Inactivity, rumour and projection are all tools the fanatic knows well.
The third joy is football coaching. Having coached grown men, the prospect of teaching toddlers to play was daunting. Those toddlers play adult football now and the next generation will in a couple of years. I’d like to think that for some of them who look back later in life that they’d remember me. The funniest tales come from sport. And there’s camaraderie, teamwork and effort. Talent alone is not enough.
I won’t start on music. Best left to another day. But their are reasons to be cheerful. Amongst the pain and survival that is living we must never lose sight of everything we hold dear to us. And smile.
jrfhobbs 