It’s been a wet day in southwest London. The morning was one of errands for my aunt and uncle, though I managed to talk my way out of getting my aunt some underwear. I’m happy to do the essentials but buying knickers for a soon-to-be-84-year-old potty mouthed woman, seriously, that does nothing to lift my spirits.
My aunt also wanted some pens. Specifically, two red ones and two blues, but there was nothing in Poundland. It was then off to the next stop-off, picking up a rucksack for my uncle in notorious Sports Shop Budget Direct ahead of his upcoming hospital stay. He’s been using the same ‘man bag’ since the sixties. He felt it was time for a change. It was one of those items you usually find in that store where they claim the price has been slashed from something like £500 to a bargain £8.99. My aunt couldn’t stop looking at the price slash label. “You really got a good deal here,” she kept telling my uncle.
The bag only has two zips, but my uncle, looking impressed with it, kept checking the bag for more zips, before unzipping and re-zipping the bag repeatedly. My aunt, bossy as ever, was working out which of his personal effects would go where in the bag, and there is some dispute as to where my uncle’s underwear will go. My uncle favours the front compartment for his tangas, while my aunt thinks those will be better suited to his small radio and various chargers.
New to the rucksack, my uncle tried out the straps on his shoulders. I hope he works this out before the day he goes into hospital. He looked like he was going for the single-shoulder option, only he was sticking the inside left strap on the right shoulder, leaving the right strap hanging like me at some big social event in the 90s, before I decided those gatherings didn’t play to my strengths.
I was pulled up for not picking up on my uncle’s haircut. This time, on my aunt’s orders, he was only allowed to have a scissor cut. Lately, these new Stockwell barbers have been using clippers and I have to say, his last couple of haircuts had been impressive, but were far too short for my aunt’s liking. Inevitably, my aunt was still able to find fault with this new cut and feels the barber had taken my uncle’s neckline up too high.
“Next time you’re coming with me,” my frustrated uncle told his wife of 57 years, “and you can tell them what you want them to do for me.”
My aunt brought down some old pictures, some from her courting days, some of my older cousin as a toddler with my uncle. There was also one from the mid-90s where my aunt and mum are pictured with their great friend, a big figure in my life, as well as another friend, the old co-owner of the greatest Spanish restaurant south London has seen in my lifetime, which sadly closed down a decade ago, run into the ground within a year of the son taking over. This woman, now sadly suffering from dementia, has just gone into a home.
I thought I might struggle seeing a picture of my mum that I hadn’t seen before, but I was okay with it. I based this around the time a few years ago when my aunt brought down my parents’ wedding album which I hadn’t seen for years, and I was shocked at how difficult it was to see those pictures. It took everything to keep the tears at bay that day. It’s funny when you lose loved ones. You toughen up and get to that point where you can function, but every now and then, there’s a chink in the emotional armour and you realise that pain will always be there. You’ve just managed to bury it in order to function.
I remember the day of my cousin’s first wedding in the summer of ’95 well, partly because it was difficult for me knowing I was losing a huge, huge figure in the first half of my life to married life. That sadness can be seen in pictures of me on that day and my mum and aunt’s great friend would comment on it some time later. I never forgot that. “Look at you. You knew what you two had was over.” She was right. We’re still in each other’s lives but of course, people move on, have kids, things change. I’ve just always struggled with people getting married so young. To get married in your early twenties, you’re not long finished with being a kid. What’s the rush? To me, it’s always been a very working class outlook. Of course, I’ve gone completely the other way, which I wouldn’t necessarily recommend, but I’m not really one for regrets. Luckily for me, as I have plenty to regret if I was so inclined.
The café was empty when I rolled in just before 11.30am today, Seb K and Phil Collins, their outstanding morning barista-partnership chatting away. The Beard arrived not long after. The outlook regarding his knee issue isn’t good. He needs the cartilage replaced but is too young for surgery. It’s clearly having an impact as he’s piling on the weight and has grown out his already full beard to disguise the increasingly jowly look.
By lunchtime, it was the busiest it had been for some time, probably because of the rain. The rest of the day is likely to involve a combination of shopping, loafing and audio editing, while there’s a critical Star Wars Football League fixture, Tattooine, now unbeaten in 44 games, needing to beat deposed champions Bespin in their final league game of the season to stall Hoth’s likely coronation.
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