Saturday 17th June
Such a wonderful morning to wake up to: sunrise about five o’clock, and the blackbird singing away merrily.
We had decided to go to Falmouth super early to grab a parking space, in order to meet up with Dad’s sister and husband, who were performing in Europe’s largest Sea Shanty Festival.
As it was, we arrived just before eight thirty, to an almost empty car park. Oh well, we were able to have a morning wander, with the streets quiet, shops not yet open, and the sea sparkling in the sunshine. We did though find a great place for coffee and toast, with big, comfy, leather sofas. You would have chosen breakfast pancakes from the menu, then happily wandered off to browse the book shops, meeting up later. This would have been a great time of day for you: no crowds or noise.
Following breakfast, we walked the length of the high street, along the pier, then back again, before the morning parade began, led by Betty Stogs. Not sure what you would have made of him.
Having met up with Dad’s sister and her husband, we watched some of the performers as they marched through the square, then browsed the various marquees, and spent a quiet lunch on their boat that was moored in the marina.
Later, we rejoined the crowds and listened to groups of sea shanty singers. The Wareham Whalers, The Longest Johns, Bamaluz Bootleggers, The Oggy Men, The Barnacle Bouys were a few of the many, many performers today: some sang in pubs, some in the street, inside shops or on outside stages. (The festival lasts for three days, from late morning through to the evening, but I’m not sure you could experience every single form of entertainment on offer ~ twenty four venues with over sixty singing groups).
Having spent almost eight hours in the brilliant sunshine in the town, it was time to leave the partying revellers still going strong. We drove to the hospital to check on your Nan following her hip operation yesterday. You would be pleased to know she is fine, a bit groggy, but certainly feeling less pain than before. The operation went well, and she had a comfortable night. Nan is in a bright and sunny ward, next to a window, overlooking gardens; all the patients are ‘Old Dearies’, as you would call little old ladies.
You were with us all day sweetie, I know you were.
But we do so miss your actual presence, your voice, your laughter, the things you’d say and do, your quirkiness and unpredictability.
We just miss you. So, so much.
Blowing kisses to heaven.
xxxxxx
The Journey of My Left Foot (whilst remembering my son) 