Heartbreak and Happiness

What started as a journey to complete our family turned into a quest that would try our very souls, affecting every decision we made and have yet to make.

I met my partner in August 2003. Our meeting was destined—we later discovered we had often been in the same places at the same time, but till then our paths hadn’t crossed. When we first began chatting, I knew we were meant to be together.

I was born in one of the outer boroughs of London in the late 1970s. I think, in their heart of hearts, my parents knew I was different from my siblings.

I loved spending time in my own imagination. I loved school and everything it represented. I was the middle child in a middle-class family. We always seemed to be able to go on holiday, even if it were only to Butlins, Pontins, and all the holidays that you can get for cheap out of the paper.

My parents were also very good at ensuring that we only knew what we needed to know. My dad clearly loved us but could not express his emotions. This ability came years later and is something I will always cherish. He was born at the end of the war to parents who only tolerated each other.

My granddad was very good at altering his memories. I thought that he had fought in the war and that he had single-handedly supported the allies. Well, that was my childhood memory. According to my dad, Granddad had, in fact, been a watchman who checked for any fires at the local gasworks. It did make me laugh. It is a strange coincidence, but as I write this, I remember that he died twelve years ago today, so here is a drink to you, Granddad!

My nan had died ten years previously, and although my dad told me that they never really got on, I don’t think Granddad ever got over her death. He went to stay with a relative for what was supposed to be two weeks and ended up staying years.

My mother’s parents were very different. Grandfather died when I was about two, so my memories of him are sparse. Nan used to tell me that he spent a lot of time with me, as I was a sickly child born with health concerns that continue to follow me. But without these health issues, I would not be the person I am now. Nan was a formidable lady, who was a nurse for a time and who was used to getting her way. I think my grandparents had their problems, but Nan would never admit to that. She outlived my grandfather by thirty years and only recently passed away. I miss her greatly, and I have visited her grave many times. I have also been working on my family tree, and I am enjoying discovering more about her family.

Our family moved several times, the last being when I was about eight to be closer to my grandparents. When I started school, I met someone who is still a very special friend. I spent many happy years in that old Victorian school and a great deal of time with my grandmother, who, although old to my childish eyes, retained a delightful, witty personality.

When I think back, I recall the old person smell that she always had—you know the smell I mean. She told tales of her youth and her career and also stories about my grandfather. We often used to walk by an old house of hers that overlooked the beach. It had a huge sitting room, and I recall a square wooden table in the bay window where we used to sit, eat, and play games. Despite her age, she exerted an influence over my aunts and uncles.

My homework was always done on time, and people used to call me a swot, but I didn’t mind. I spent many happy years at that school and then at the local secondary that my siblings, aunts, and uncles had attended. It has since been knocked down, and a new school has been built in its place, but I remember the happy times and, in particular, two teachers who supported and inspired me.

One was an Australian English teacher, who, though only at my school for a year, really taught me to enjoy English and reading. I kept in touch with her after she left, and although there was a long gap, we have recently reconnected. School was a haven for me; it was a special time in my life when I enjoyed learning and meeting with dear friends, who taught me a lot about myself and about who I wanted to become.

Growing up, I used to look at people and wonder what they were thinking and whether I was like them. I used to think about getting married and about having children. But, somehow, I knew I was different and my life would not turn out in the way I had planned.