My Mom, Maureen May, passed away on the eighth of April 2021.
She outlasted my dad by fifteen years and those years came as a bit of a release for her after a long time of looking after her husband following a stroke.
Since his stroke, my dad, Gordon, was unable to walk any real distance and in later years was virtually confined to a wheelchair.
After my dad’s passing, Mom had a great deal more freedom and took the opportunity to get out and about. Never having learnt to drive, she was reliant on public transport and was a bit of an expert on the local buses.
In later years, she teamed up with a woman who, strangely, she met at her local bus stop and was to become her best friend, Margaret.
Each week, they would travel out, on the local buses and/or the tram, do a bit of shopping, grab a coffee and put the world to rights.
Some, especially my wife, say that I am turning into my mother (I mainly treat this as a compliment) by riding the buses. I am not quite at the stage of taking a packed lunch – well not yet I’m not.
During their time together, my parents bought a static caravan in the town of Stourport-on-Severn and our expanding family would drive out to visit them there.
Since 2022, every year, on the weekend nearest the eighth of April, the family have a day out in Stourport to remember the times spent with Maureen or, as she was known to the kids, Nanny Choc because she always had chocolate (usually Club biscuits) at home to dish out.
Due to various commitments, we rarely get the whole family to attend but this year we managed eighteen. This clan gathering comprised of her son (me) and daughter-in-law, our four children, one of there other halves, nine of our grandchildren (other one at work) and two of their partners. I think. Oh, and a sausage dog.