Everyday people we miss

I used to ring my mum Maw at 5pm on a Tuesday and a Sunday. When they were away my dad used to get the mobile out of the safe at those times!!

I also used to ring Mum on Mondays.
If I was busy and forgot, I used to get a gentle "where were you?"

I am part of a large family. I miss my aunties and uncles. Most now gone.
My mum is the last one remaining of a big group of her siblings. She has become a bit of a focal point for the nieces and nephews. Partly of her link to their parents. And partly because only she can now answer some of their questions. She is very much still of sound mind thankfully.

I agree life is too short.
I am early 60s. I feel my life has gone in two sets of 30 years so far. I am now looking at my last remaining years and trying to work out what I shold and should not do. And which are the priorities.
Actually I could go on about this part. Perhaps I will write another thread sometime.

MawtheMerrier

I wonder how many of us who ended up many miles away from Mum and Dad and used to ring our parents at a set time on a set day?
Mine was 7 o clock on Sunday - even if I did also ring at other times) because by their late 70’s and 80’s they liked their “routine”.
They’ve been dead for 22 years, but I still have that momentary urge on a Sunday evening….

I'm the same Maw, mine was 11 a.m. on a Sunday morning every week. My cousin in Wales phoned hers at 10 a.m. so all the family gossip was swapped and we could enjoy lunch. When my mum was on her own it was every day, even on holiday. I always feel it at family times.
Now I am older I can see why she needed it, just reassurance that all was well with the family.
I admit to liking at least one message a week with DDs and they have checked we have got supplies in with the weather and Facetimes booked.
We seem to have got to the age when some bad news happens to friends nearly every week. two husbands picked up with cancer and one died just before Christmas, friends with Osteoporosis.
We seem to lurch from one illness to another. I keep telling myself to take good of the situation and try to live for the day.

MawtheMerrier From the age of 11, away at boarding school, on Sunday evenings I sat down and wrote home, knowing that at home, wherever that may have been at the time, my parents were each writing a letter, one to me and one to my sister.

I continued this through my university years and the early years of my marriage, when we did not have a phone.

When we got a phone, I started ringing every Sunday evening, time varied, I kept that up until my father died in 2007, well into his 90s.

When our children left home and after the unsettled years settled down to their chosen careers, we started ringing them on a Sunday evening - and still do. DS is less regular because of his work, but every Sunday evening, we ring them both, still.

I miss my husband the most if anyone, my parents and my best friend, it seems there is just me left except for my sister, who doesn't have peopIe visiting. She still has her partner and we call each other each week. If the situation was reversed I would make sure I saw her each week. The neighbours that are left I have known over 50 years, are nice, their children visit them a few times a week and they are happy with that. I see my son rarely, so I get very lonely. I find my house difficult to manage now but moving to another new place is very daunting. It's not easy when older and to go from an area I know to one where I know no one. I would be more loney.
A friend I made on here moved within distance across country from her daughter and is very much part of the family. I dont feel part of a family now. My busy life caring for everyone has gone,so it's natural to miss those whom I was loved by and loved back. Getting old is not for the faint hearted fir sure. Oh dear I do feel sorry for myself, sorry.

Yesterday was particularly poignant thinking of missing friends.
I was asked how many volunteers there were when the community store was begun. It began trading in 2017 but along with DH, at least 4 of the original team have died.
Infact it's hard to find anyone who can clearly remember the early days.

As for those places we loved.
I grew up in NZ and spent every Summer at my DG house by the sea
I went for a visit 25 years ago and again 10 years ago. The house was still there but the town is different. It's now a tourist attraction.

Last Easter, a dear friend died suddenly. It is only since then that I have fully realised just how much she meant to me. I have been more affected by her death than that of any other friend. Why she meant so much more I am not sure, but when ever I think of her, she is laughing, and we laughed a lot.

Her DH had just been diagnosed with alzheimers and since her death has fallen over a cliff, dementia wise and is in a care home, with no memory of anything, although he remains his usual friendly self when I visit, but it is clear he doesn't know me from Eve, and has absolutely no memory of the friendship our family's shared for over 40 years.

Only the loss of my sister has affected me more. I am close to crying just writing this.

I regularly reminisce in my mind about my happy childhood in Birmingham. We lived in a small semi and spent many hours playing in the garden during the summer, watching the express trains to London pass our house in the small valley below.

We count ourselves as lucky now that we over look a large field directly outside the front of our end of terrace house. All the neighbours have benches, chairs etc which we sit out on during the summer, just like people did in my childhood and we wave and chat to each other. We are the oldest couple here, but all the youngsters are friendly with us.

When I invited a friend in the pandemic to visit and we would sit on the lawn, she was very reluctant and wouldn’t come. She likes to hide behind her curtains.

Here is a photo through our stable front door. Our house is modest but I wouldn’t change it for anything.

We also have lost both neighbours on either side of us and a friend further down the road. We were young when we moved in with young children and now we are probably the oldest. It is strange and sad to think about all the people who have moved away or died. I am nearly 82 and my dh 84. Life is a fleeting experience.

Today is the anniversary of my lovely mother's funeral, 5 years ago.
And no - time is NOT a great healer...

I’ve lost 6 people I loved in 3 years now, I’ve been devastated and I miss them constantly, and still reeling that all 6 have gone, none older than 75. I do try and focus on positives, Mum is 93 today, and I do have my lovely AC and families, and other friends to keep me going. But on many occasions lately, I have asked myself, what is this all about. All any of us can do is make the most of every day and feel grateful that we have the privilege of carrying on regardless.

NanKate what a beautiful view from your front door! Very uplifting and wonderful for the soul. No wonder you don’t want to move. Friendly neighbours, not too intrusive sounds like the icing on your cake.
😊

I know this sounds completely crazy but although I often can’t picture in my mind someone I’ve lost I still hear their voice on the telephone so clearly. And part of me feels that I could still dial their number and they would pick up the phone and answer. It all goes back to a very dear friend I lost many years ago who I used to mainly speak to on the phone.

This has happened to me too, not helped by the fact that the Cornish village I was born in was the one used in the filming of Doc Martin. One of my cousins tells me the old part of the village is barely inhabited in the winter. And the prices the houses go for there are astronomical. The house my aunt rented has just sold for over a million pounds. No local couple can afford them. The shops there are full of holiday tat, whereas we had a thriving local business comunity. I can still remember the names of the shop keepers and I am 85 now. They call it progress.

I've got to that rather sad stage of life when it seems that almost every few weeks I'm getting news that another relative, friend or acquaintance has passed. On the positive side, at least I'm still here to reflect on those warm, precious memories of time spent with them. What these bereavements emphasisefor me is the need to "seize the day" as regards contact with those who are close to me. I remind myself that one day, I too will be no more than a memory to them, so I'm determined to make that memory a good one.

What a lovely, positive thought micmc. Uplifting take on mortality. Thank you.

I wonder how many of us who ended up many miles away from Mum and Dad and used to ring our parents at a set time on a set day?
Mine was 7 o clock on Sunday - even if I did also ring at other times) because by their late 70’s and 80’s they liked their “routine”.
They’ve been dead for 22 years, but I still have that momentary urge on a Sunday evening….

Gosh me too MM, every single Sunday evening 7pm (time abroad, 6pm here) I would telephone my mother for years and years until she came to live with me for her final 2 years.

I moved into my house in '91 with my then husband and two young boys. I am still in the same house, new partner, boys have moved out and have their own families. We have made some changes to it and I admit, the driveway has extended over the whole front garden so we can park. I miss my boys living at home, the conversations and family meals. One son and DIL live local to me and I have my granddaughter one day a week which is lovely. The other son and DIL are only a 15 minute drive away.
My road has changed. As others have said, we were the young family, my neighbour then moved in with her four children. It has changed now, more cars parked on concrete driveways, and more parked in the road, us young families are now approaching being the 'older people' and young people have moved in where neighbours used to live. I do have thoughts of those that have passed on, one lady in particular that I was very friendly with and I do miss popping over to see her. Her husband moved on and there is a young couple in their house. They are very nice. Times change and the circle of life continues. I am still happy here though.

My neighbour and old friend John and my cousin's, all gone now.

I ended up many miles from Mum and Dad from the age of 17, when I left home. They didn’t have a phone but we wrote to each other every week. My Dad would write and mum would add a page or two. I so looked forward to those letters, especially after I married and was living abroad, and still have some of them.
Our long standing friends and relatives are very thin on the ground now. Each year seems to deplete their numbers. I spoke to an old friend this morning and it’s fairly obvious he’s struggling with illness and age related issues now. But we can still make each other laugh and laughter is the best medicine.
On a road of mixed age groups, I am, at 76, probably the oldest resident now. As children get older and stop riding scooters and bikes up and down the road you see less of them. My neighbours have a couple of very young children but they are not nearly old enough yet to be allowed the freedom to be out unsupervised. By the time they are, I will probably have moved on to a smaller property. I like to hear them in the garden though. It’s good to hear young voices.

I yearn for family, friends and neighbours long gone. Life seems so fleeting and full of loss as we age.

Ah, shinamae, the memories your photograph of Mortehoe brought back to me! I feel so close to tears remembering and feeling so nostalgic
My late husband as a young boy spent virtually every school summer holiday in the 50's and 60's with his family at a hotel opposite The Mortehoe (can't remember its name but was run by a Mrs O'Sullivan)
I used to work summer university holidays in the early 70's at The Mortehoe Hotel as waitress/chambermaid with my late husband. Many sunny afternoons spent on Grunta Beach!
We spent our honeymoon in Mortehoe. Such a beautiful place.
Happy days!

I was brought up in a very open area which is now a London suburb. We had a very large back garden which now has three sheds housing 3 families in them. No planning permission of course as they are
“only sheds “. The front garden is now a car park, the allotments up the road are 5 story flats with blankets at the windows not curtains and the infants school has been turned into a nursery for the babies of working parents. The large local pub is now 3 separate shops plus a nail bar and a betting shop. Don’t go back. Remember with love but don’t go back.

LRavenscroft seems to be living somewhere that suits her which is lovely. But my MIL moved to a suburban area when her children were in their early teens, with lots of similar families. She ended up twenty years later marooned in a sea of young families, without any of her old friends and neighbours.
It's inevitable that people move on, either for work, to be near relatives or simply to move up the housing ladder - and sadly some die. It was a great shame that my MIL didn't move too, the three bedroomed house and garden were much too big for her and she was lonely.
If an area has changed so much that it doesn't make you happy any longer it makes sense to move.