| My dad and
me |
| A well-respected
acquaintance, Janet Stracey, read my meagre words and was most complimentary.
However, she presented me with a list of questions, which I shall now try to
answer. |
| I was five years and two
months old when my father returned from the prison camp. My first memory of him
(whether this is reality or imagination I have no way of telling) was of a
soldier with a kit bag kneeling before me in the passage of 187 Mare Street
Hackney. He looked like his brother whom I knew and loved very much.
Unfortunately I thought that he was my uncle but had changed from a handsome
young man to the figure before me, thin and yellow. |
| I remember the
years that followed very clearly. My dad was mentally disturbed, his mood
swings were erratic; this kind of behaviour was not understood that long ago.
He never took me out, not even for something as simple as a picnic. He was only
concerned that I succeeded at school, it was very fortunate that I did. My
young brother did not fare so well, he hated school and, in my father's eyes,
was a total loss. |
| For as long (at least by
the time I was 7) as I can remember dad would instigated a regime of silence.
It took very little to stop him talking to me for three weeks at a time. I can
still recall how I would go to school or, later, work with my stomach churning,
never knowing how I would be received on my return. I have very strong views on
smacking children (not beating, just smacks) my mum says that dad used to hit
me, I have no recollection of this but I do have bitter memories of the mental
abuse. To every person outside of the family he would praise me so much that
I'm sure they thought we were the perfect father and daughter. My worst memory
is of threatening my dad with a bread knife when I was 14. I thought be was
going to hit my mum. (He was never violent towards her) He continued in this
vein until I married; he no longer had any hold over me. He then turned on my
brother who had never suffered in quite the same way. |
| As time went by I stood up
to him more (this was when I was married) his health became worse and I became
the dominant one. I think I loved him but maybe that's wishful thinking. I know
that the loved me in is own way and spent the latter part of his life trying to
make up for the way he knew he had treated me. I always told him I loved him
but I didn't cry when he died. He did suffer during the war and I realise this
but was unable to make too many allowances. Strangely enough I would always
defend him when other people criticised him. |
| My mum's life was
miserable. He never allowed her to know anything. She has spent her whole life
believing that she is stupid, her mother told her so and her husband carried
the myth on. I have spent years telling her that she is as capable, in most
cases more capable, as anyone is. When she was 67 I managed to get her to take
up painting. She was so very good, much better than I could ever be. I took up
cross-stitch and bought mum a kit, once again she did it beautifully. Since dad
came home from the war she was surrounded by illness. She wasn't robust, my
brother was a very sickly child and adult, Dad eventually lost the use of his
legs. Mum waited on him throughout his life. She has told me in later years
that she would have left if there had been somewhere to go. The Fifties and
Sixties were not for women. She had a mother who thought more of herself than
my mum and, shortly after I married, she went to live with mum and dad. That
really was disastrous. My idyllic life with my husband |
| Being married and having
children were my ambitions. I never wanted anything else although I've always
involved myself with other projects that obviously took the place of ambition.
I have an I Q of 156, I used to be a member of MENSA until I decided that too
many of them were twits. I mention this to illustrate that I am not empty
headed just completely unambitious. Unlike Janet, everyone I knew was
apparently as happy. We had as many ups and downs as any married couple. I
cannot relate everything, much of my married life would not sound good on
paper, I only know that John has always been for me. (I cannot speak for him,
for years I thought might he didn't love me but his care of me has proved me
wrong) |
| I do know that I would
never have lived my mum's life. Without knowing it I have deliberately done
everything she didn't. I have never been a door mat, always done what I wanted
to, always known how far I could go without making John totally angry i.e.
Never getting him into the red. He is easy going to the point of (I think)
stupidity. For example, two years before we married I decided that we would
take a little boy from Dr Barnados out each month. This we did of two and a
half years. Approx. two years ago, (36 years later) he told me he hadn't really
like doing it. |
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