HOW TO LOVE FAMILY

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YOU KNOW IT’S THE WRITE WAY

HOW TO LOVE FAMILY

Family. What are we to make of it? It’s a concept that’s been around as long as history, but today it seems to be under threat like never before. And sometimes, the criticism is deserved.
There is much abuse within families. A family can be secretive, manipulative, monstrous. Once, an extended family could help here – a criticism or protection from on the fringe. But today, it is usually the State that steps in when required.

This has given family a bad image.

After all, we hear about the failures more than the successes. And even the nature of family has changed. No longer is it a standard unit of mother, father, children. The single family, and same sex parents, are on the rise.
Families interlink with other families today. This is due to the rise in divorce, with children often having multiple parents. But why has the family seemed to suffer and change so much in modern times?

One answer is technology.

The television killed off conversation, whilst the car allowed families to spread out. With immediacy gone, the importance was bound to decline.
Media has also played its part. By highlighting problems within family, cultural consciousness edged away from the concept. This allowed the rise of political correctness, knocking the family at every stage.

This is a worrying problem.

This is so because family always had a vital function in society. It provided a sense of allegiance to something other than the State. With that allegiance gone, the State encroaches into all our personal lives.
So, above nurture, love and togetherness, the family was essential to our freedoms, no matter what we thought of it. So maybe it is time to rebirth the importance of family. And a good way to do so is to remember this:
Family was always idealized as a perfect unit. This is nonsense. There is no such thing as perfection. Mothers, fathers, children – all are flawed, because we’re human. But we haven’t, yet, learnt to forgive the concept for not being what it never could have been.
The best we can hope of any family member is that they’ll try their best. And be honest: can you claim more than this?

© Anthony North, May 2008

A PECULIAR FAMILY INDEED

They sat on the bank, the river flowed by,
Their child by their side, having said: ‘Oh, my!’
He was called Toverich, an industrious chap,
she was Gravelines, pondering an embattled mishap;
They didn’t need an abacus to work out the odds,
of a child like this, come from the gods;
A pigeon it was, born from their habits,
and a miracle indeed,
‘cos they were two rabbits

(c) Anthony North, May 2008

IT’S GONE QUIET

Okay, Son No 5 has gone off to university, leaving just Daughter No 2, Wife No One and Only, and, of course, No 1 So, for the first time in some 29 years, there is no male child in the house.
Now, I’m not saying that Daughter No 2 doesn’t make noise and drive us mad from time to time. But I have to admit, an eerie silence seems to have descended upon the house.

I’m thinking about a different future.

And I’ve never had to think in those terms before. I suppose when you’ve lived in one way for so long, you never even think of things being different. So I guess I’m at a point of transition.
So that’s it, just five years to go and Daughter No 2 may also be heading off for university, and the house will have empty rooms. Sounds will echo through the house, and they will all be mine and Yvonne’s.

Of course, there’ll be visits.

After all, you’re never fully detached from your kids, even when they grow up. Okay, for many years after leaving home, they have their own lives to live and you see them less and less. But eventually that changes.
So the empty rooms will no longer be the kid’s rooms, but hotel rooms, with people constantly flitting in and out. But then again, in the last few years before most of them left, they thought it was a hotel anyway

© Anthony North, September 2007

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GENERATIONS

It is sobering to note that, had my father still been alive, he would be 100 years old this year. He was just five when the Titanic sank, seven at the outbreak of the Great War. He must have seen so much through those eyes of his.
I’m 52, so you can work out that he was 48 when I was born. My grandfather died the year before this event, at the age of 84. A little bit of arithmetic shows that, for a few brief months, he breathed the same air as Charles Dickens.

My wife, Yvonne, is from different stock.

Whilst there is only 11 months age difference between us, she was born when her mother was 18, and her mother was born when HER mother was 19. It is strange to note that my father was older than her grandparents.
In effect, this meant that, in terms of chronology and influence, I was from my wife’s mother’s generation. Yet it is strange how, despite parental influences, we seem to even out to our actual age.

It’s a matter of rebellion.

Being brought up in a deep sense of tradition, it was inevitable that I would rebel, living the full life the late 60s and 70s demanded. Alternatively, whilst Yvonne also lived life to the full, her main influence was her grandmother rather than mother.
Hence, it was the case that, when we met, we had equalized our differing parental influences and we were much of the same mind.
Today, there are often arguments that parents are losing control, with culture and peer pressure overriding the influence of the parent. Yes, this seems to be the case with such a pervasive media.
Yet, in a way, the story of our generations suggests it was always thus.

© Anthony North, September 2007

Have you clicked Diary of a Writer on Blogroll? Meet me, up close and personal.
Click Tony On, on Blogroll, for my current affairs blog.
If you like fiction, click Fiction Page on Blogroll for my short stories.
Check out the pages. Find my Links on Eye On the World.

A HECTIC WEEK

It’s been one of those weeks. You know, everything’s been going just right, and then …
Well, you know how it is.
Summer holidays about over, it’s the time to kit out Daughter No 2 for the new school year, and echoing through the house are those repetitive words: ‘How much!?’ Then there’s Son No 5.

Another week and he’s off to university.

And it was all going fine. Everything settled, except finance. And we wait, and we wait …
Finally, onto the phone, RAP pounding my ears for 30 minutes as I’m in the ‘queue’. Then, the magic human voice.
It’s sorted now. Apparently, there was a ‘systems failure’ (put the form in the wrong pile) and ‘we had difficulty locating the information’ (whos details ended up in the bin, then?).
So we’re ready for the off

Until Yvonne went down ill.

Yvonne suffers from anaemia, and sometimes them tablets just let her down. Everything fails, and so to bed. I become the nurse. I’m getting good at this. The right word here, remedies there.
She’s pulling through now – should be her sparkly self in a couple of days. Recovery always starts with the jaw muscles, so she’s telling me so. Ah, bless her.
So as you can imagine, with Daughter No 2 preparing for school, and Son No 5 getting ready for University, and Wife No One and Only not too well, it’s been pretty hectic. And I’ve not even mentioned the washing up, the cooking, the cleaning …
Well, that’s another hour out of the way (yes, I know, I’m ducking).
But peace and calm is coming. I think. But a worry. With Son No 5 gone, for the first time in 30 years, the females will outnumber the male in the household.
Oh dear, the battle of the toilet seat is about to begin.
I say, UP!!!

© Anthony North, September, 2007

Have you clicked Diary of a Writer on Blogroll? Meet me, up close and personal.
Click Tony On, on Blogroll, for my current affairs blog.
If you like fiction, click Fiction Page on Blogroll for my short stories.
Check out the pages. Find my Links on Eye On the World.

NIGHT OF TROUBLE

Son No 4 is an artistic type. He gets bored of it now and again, but if he put his mind to it he could be a great artist. However, he also has a love of food. He was once asked, jokingly, if he dreamt of food on a night. His serious answer was: ‘yes.’
Hence, it was inevitable he would become a chef. He’s 21 now and doing well, living away and chefing in a hotel to his heart’s content. He works hard and enjoys the occasional night out. And he did this last Friday night.

A spot of bovver

On his way home, he stopped to talk to a couple of girls, when along came some other men to cause a bit of trouble. Son No 4 did what a gentleman does and attempted to defend them. It was then that he was thumped in the face.
The next thing he knew, he was coming round in the ambulance. His face was a mess. A couple of animals, it seems, had decided to kick him unconscious whilst on the ground. And this happened, not in some city out of control, but a sleepy country town.

The state of things

The thugs obviously ran off. The police may get them – maybe not. I quite often write about crime, and how it occurs and what lies behind it. I never try to excuse, but understand. For now, my understanding is gone. I don’t like cowards.
As for Son No 4, I could say he was lucky. There’s no lasting damage and he’ll be out of hospital soon. But ‘lucky’ would have been if he hadn’t been assaulted in the first place.
Vital, though, is to keep a sense of humour. And as I remarked to Yvonne after he had his brain scan: ‘He’s got one then.’ I try to bring all my kids up with a strong sense of humour. It can carry you through so much.

© Anthony North, August 2007

Have you clicked Diary of a Writer on Blogroll? Meet me, up close and personal.
Click Tony On, on Blogroll, for my current affairs blog.
If you like fiction, click Fiction Page on Blogroll for my short stories.
Check out the pages. Find my Links on Eye On the World.

THE SOUND OF …

Okay I’ve got a confession to make …
… hold on, wait for it!
They say life imitates art. And in my case this is certainly true.
So, I’ve got a confession to make.
I don’t know how it came about. Maybe it was because it was ‘in vogue’ when I was a kid. Whatever, I can’t quite grasp the time when it gripped me. But …
… it’s coming …
My favourite film is ‘The Sound of Music.’

Now stop laughing.

It’s a great film. It has everything. It has romance (and music). It has adventure (and music). It has comedy (and music). And it has – what is it? – oh yes, music. But more than this, like old von Trapp, I was in the forces. And eventually I met my Maria.
Her name’s Yvonne. Now, she didn’t look like a Maria type when I met her – she was from the big city. But eventually it turned out that she was exceptionally spiritual by nature. So okay, life’s beginning to imitate art already.
We’ve been married 30 years now, and also like ‘The Sound of Music’, we’ve made a few escapes. Infact, we’ve moved around so much that life just gets dizzy. But in the last few years we’ve settled down in a nice place in the country, close to where I was born.

It’s a little house.

We don’t need a big one anymore. But this country living seems to be agreeing with her – apart from the regular shopping jaunts to the nearby city of course. And even in this, life seems to imitate art.
You see, her favourite programme ever was ‘The Waltons.’ And as I said …
… life imitates art.
So what happens when ‘The Sound of Music’ meets ‘The Waltons’? I suppose you’ve got to work out what they have in common.
You’ll never guess how many kids we had.

© Anthony North, August 2007

Have you clicked Diary of a Writer on Blogroll? Meet me, up close and personal.
Click Tony On, on Blogroll, for my current affairs blog.
If you like fiction, click Fiction Page on Blogroll for my short stories.
Check out the pages. Find my Links on Eye On the World.