My Sunday evening, Hub and mine least favourite time of the week. As I have spoken about before it stems from the dreaded days of boarding school. Sunday was the night we had to return to our prison of the evil camp. That was when we were little. Older, a lot of Sundays I spent at school, not going home that weekend, but Hub spent most of his weekends at school and only got home at half term. Life thankfully is so different now for children with vision problems. They can attend a school for all. Not that I’m saying for education that is the best, but for sure our minds wouldn’t be so screwed up if we, had that luxury as children.
The pain on a Sunday lunch time of knowing that that would be my last meal for a week at least was unbearable. Food at our schools were really disgusting. Especially my second school. I can only liken it to a work house in the Victorian days. We had some old dried cereal for breakfast with a slice of white bread and butter. Lunch was one slice of roast beef two potatoes and some white cabbage. Most days that is what we got and something they called dessert, but if we did anything wrong, dessert was removed from our privileges.
It’s not even worth wasting words on the slop we were served for evening meal at five and at so called supper time, we got a plain biscuit with a slice of bread and butter. My friends and I used to try to pack our bread out a bit by putting the biscuit in the bread. Never the luxury at supper time of a hot cup of tea or hot chocolate. The growing boys used to really suffer. I hope whoever decided to treat us in such a manner, goes to their grave in pain and suffers a slow hot journey to hell.
Harsh? You may say that, but to be honest, the food was the least of our problems. How on earth no one has took our school masters to court by now is beyond me. Of course, there were favourites, and no harm came to them, but they were the kids used in other ways. Ways that are too graphic to write about.
Sundays meant packing a case and heading off to a cold welcome from a damp smelling school. Thank God for our friends, who became our brothers and sisters.
Hub and I have to face facts, nothing we can do now can change our past. The times as small children we fell and wanted a hug from our parents. No one can read bed time stories to us but we can read them to our children. We can make sure our children have nice food and feel warm and loved. Our Son is loved so much, in fact he doesn’t realise just how much and will never appreciate how lucky he is, because thankfully he has never had to suffer in such ways.
Tonight, Hub and I watched a drama we had recorded called Call the Midwife. It was the last in the series. We shouldn’t watch it on a Sunday, we are our own enemies. I don’t think there are many weeks when I don’t cry having that dreadful lump in my throat because of course it’s about women getting pregnant their lifestyles from the 1960’s and what life was like in those days. Well, that should be a no no for me with me being adopted in the late 60’s. But no, I punish myself and watch it.
Tonight’s episode was about a few families one in particularly was heart breaking but the other, how much a father wanted his baby. This just reminded me how alone I felt when I was having my baby and when I had him. I was a Mother and Father to my Son. I went through hell. Wondering how on earth could a person like my birth Mother give a baby up? And facing my new born baby wondering if he too would be born with my eye disease? No one to talk to and no help. I didn’t even know how to put a nappy on my baby. I was at boarding school when my Niece was born so only saw her for the odd hour now and then. Before I knew it, she was a toddler. That toddler turned 35 today. How time goes by and how it affects us?
I’m going to bed now to tell my now and forever Husband how much I love him. Tomorrow as they say, is another day.
Dread is in my opinion linked to fear and is a thief to have the ability to enjoy the present and future if you don’t fight it, but sometimes I get tired of fighting!
The spring is full of new beginnings and I wish for a spring for all of you. X
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