Times Past: Time's Passed

The River Nene at Wadenhoe, Northamptonshire

It was great to hear from an old friend this week, even though he had to tell me the sad news about another friend's death. It got me thinking about things as I put a few words together in reply. It became a sort of statement about my life as it is at the moment. This is what I wrote back to him.

Hi Vince.
Great to hear from you, even if you were the bearer of sad news. Poor Dave, it was no age to go. Was it the big C? I don't know about you, but I've recently become much more aware of how little time our generation has got left - the future no longer stretches into infinity. I often read obituaries of men who I've always thought of as my generation. Blowing away like leaves on a windy day.
I lost my own Mum earlier this year. She lived with me for the past ten years or more since my Dad died, and as she drifted into her nineties became more incapacitated, immobile as well as virtually blind. Because of having to care for her, I shed more and more of my teaching work until this year I've only been teaching two mornings a week. I couldn't bear to give it up completely. If I did, I don't think it it would be long before I joined the two Daves. Quite honestly, teaching and keeping up with what the new generation is doing is the only thing that keeps me focussed on life. (The extra bit of spending money is nice too!)
Anyway, on a more cheerful note, I wonder what did become of Shirley Lee. I find it hard to imagine she's still around. She must be a very old lady if she is. I often think back to those days and often regret that we let life move us on. I often say to people that the years in Lancashire were the happiest years of my life. Perhaps it was because we were fresh from the RCA, green but full of confidence in what life was going to offer us. I often wonder about other people who crossed our path in Preston. I remember Roger Swanborough (who had also been behind us at the RCA), Sylvia Lees whose husband Peter had been at the RCA at the same time as us, and there was a nice girl Linda who taught fashion. I also have fond memories of Stan Hogg, who ran the printing trade courses. He must surely be dead by now. Lots of the students linger in the memory too because their quirky character. I've still got one or two photographs of that time that bring it all back.
It would be nice to make time to renew old friendships. You're clearly much better at it than me. Although I've loved friends dearly, I seem to spend my life with my head down, burrowing away without looking to right or left and abandoning everything I've left behind me. Not really a good trait, but I've learnt to live with it.