Have you had a good week? I've had a winderful week, I've also had a terrible week. You may ask how can this be. Well, we went on holiday for a couple of days in the middle of the week. We started with a day on the beach at West Wittering, which was wonderful. It has been listed as the best beach in the South East of England and I wouldn't argue. It is glorious.
We stayed at our pub of choice, the Hampshire Hog in Clanfield. It is dog friendly and serves a very decent pint. It is also good value. On Thursday we went for a rather lovely walk around the South Downs, on Butster Hill. It has spectacular views, you can see the Isle of White from the top. As you can see from the piccies, it is glorious.
The doggies enjoyed some doggie Ice Cream from the cafe (I had a nice cup of tea!).
Yesterday, I went to watch Hadley FC play in the Pre qualifying round of the FA Cup. They were playing Basildon FC. I got a train to Billericay, met up with a couple of the other supporters in a rather decent micro brewery. We had a couple of pints of rather good real ale, then went to the match. The result was disappointing. Hadley lost 2-1, but it was nice to be watching footie again. When the match finished, I got the train back to Camden Town, had a delicious dinner at Peron No 4 Restaurant, then watch the Skapones, a pretty decent Ska band from the North East.
Sounds like a decent old week, doesn't it? Well it would have been, but for the fact that we came back earlier from the South Downs. One of my daughters partner had been taken into hospital for an emergency operation (he's fine now, but it was a nasty shock for all). I had a band rehearsal scheduled for the evening. As I was getting ready, my phone rang. It was one of my oldest and best mates. We went to St Vincents and FCHS together, he came out to see me when I was living in Stockholm, and was a fixture at all of the bands early gigs. He lives in Mill Hill and has been his elderly parents carer for a few years. His Dad was a brilliant guy, he used to plat five a side with us into his 60's, and was also a member of our table tennis league. He was by far the best player and won the singles championship every year, despite being 30 years older than the rest of us. Sadly, the call was to say he'd passed away. He'd been very poorly for the last few months and it was expected and in truth it was a relief in some ways, but it is rather sad and there will be a huge gap in my friends life.
Having taken that call, I got to the studio, to find that our bassplayers girlfriend was ill and he couldn't make it. I decided to do an hour's guitar practice on my own, which I probably needed. Usually when I do solo practice, I don't use my amp, so it was nice to ramp it up. My friends Dad was the person who proposed me as a member of the Mill Hill Services Club, so I decided to go for last orders at the club and raise a Guinness to his memory.
I started to think about life and death. When my Dad died in 1987, all of my close friends still had their parents. I felt that there was no one I could talk to about what I was feeling. In truth, I was in denial and shock. A year later, a friends Dad passed away after a failed kidney transplant. He had his funeral at Hendon Crematorium chapel. Half way through, I was overcome with emotion. All of the feelings I'd suppressed for a year came flooding through. I had to leave the chapel. After the service, a mate found me outside, in floods of tears. His comment "I didn't realise you were so close to Steve's Dad". I was unable to explain. Sadly, over the years, just about all of my mates lost their Dads. I suspect that the forthcoming funeral will be the last of the Dads to go.
Three years before my Dad passed, I had some serious medical issues. My Dad took me to Edgware General and I had three months off work. I lost five stone and had to be taught walk after a few weeks in bed. My Dad told me that he was terrified I was going to die, when I was taken up. I was throwing up blood and looked like a ghost. He said that no Dad should ever lose a son. The inverse of that is that every son should lose a Dad. Losing parents is one of the worst things most of us go through. Fortunately it is relatively rare to lose children (I just touched wood). I think that must be the worst thing possible. My daughters boyfriends operation brought home to me, the sheer random nature of life. In the last few weeks, three friends have lost parents. I guess it is a symptom of my age. Over the last few months, it's seemed that every week someone we know has either passed away or lost a parent.
Ten years ago, I would have probably dealt with this in a different way, as I'd had far less practice, however now it simply makes me want to enjoy my time on this beautiful planet a little bit more. As I write this, I am a bit tired and hung over. Yesterday was a long day and in truth I drunk far more than a sensible person would. I am lucky that I havean amazing family, good friends, a love of music and football and at 62 I am still in good enough shape to enjoy all of these things. A year ago, I was preparing to have surgery to remove my cancerous prostate. A year ago today, I wrote a blog detailing how stressed I was. Tomorrow I have my one year consult. Life has it's ups and downs. They don't usually come so thick and fast in the same week though. Have a great Sunday and here's a little song from our band's reportoire to cheer you up, dedicated to The Dublin Castle, as we had a great night there.
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