Doris Elmer

The family party at the weekend went well and it was good to see people after so many years. When you first see people after a long time you are instantly struck with how much older they look, but this lasts a matter of seconds and then you don't notice it anymore. It just goes to show how little of peoples' appearance is due to their physical features.

After a while we started talking about family parties of old. My aunt May (on this occasion I will use her actual name as she died some time ago) was a real party person. She would cook vol au vonts, cheese and pineapple on sticks, cucumber sandwiches and flans and keep the wine flowing for the adult guests. She would organise party games, sing songs and usually would dress up in fancy dress. (I have a photo somewhere which I will try and work out how to scan and post). She was always accompanied by her friend Doris.

Doris was a family friend. She married her husband Bill during the second world war. They had been married 3 months and he was killed in Normandy. She idolised his memory and never forgot him or remarried despite plenty of prompting from May. My cousin, who knew her better than me recalled that after the war she went to France and found Bills grave. She also found the farm where he died and made friends with the people that lived there. Every year she went over to visit Bills grave. She used to live in Camden Town and when I was working around that way I remember visiting her in her small council flat. Far from leading an isolated and lonely life, she was quite a key person in her community; representing the local senior citizens on various committees and attending many local clubs and groups.

After she died her friends asked my cousin what they should do with her ashes and he immediately suggested that they be scattered over Bill's grave in France. As far as I know getting official permission to do this was getting complicated so they just went over and did it anyway without permission!

Summer is here

I know that summer is really here when the Tour de France starts. We have just watched Mark Cavendish win the second stage in a great sprint finish. For the next few weeks my evenings will be governed by the highlights on ITV 4 or Eurosport.

Reunion 2

My second weekend of reunions approaches quickly. My cousin emigrated to Australia 40 years ago. We are not a close extended family and I think the last time we were all together was at my father's funeral 25 years ago. My cousin came for a visit 5 years ago but I was too ill to come and meet everyone. However, this time I have no excuse so we are picking up my mother tomorrow lunchtime and heading off to meet with cousins and second cousins that I haven't seen for a very long time.

Unfit

We really haven't been doing much cycling this year as we have had to concentrate on the house most weekends. In fact, until yesterday I hadn't ridden my mountain bike for a year or so. We had planned to ride at the weekend, initially on the road with some of Ian's friends, but they had dropped out. Ian would have been happy not to have cycled but I insisted so to make me suffer he suggested a mountain bike ride! All the routes from my house involve going uphill rather suddenly. I picked what I thought was the easiest one but even so I had to stop twice going up the 12% hill to get my breath back! I am not very fit at the moment! Once at the top and after my heart rate had calmed down I really enjoyed being outside although I think need to get fitter so that it doesn't hurt so much! I guess it didn't help that it was the hottest day of the year so far! We cycled out to Birling Gap, which was packed with visitors.

I was exhausted and Ian was a bit bored since he can cycle so much faster than me. We passed on tea and ice cream (although I did take some photos) and headed home. I did not find the journey back quite so difficult and Ian had cheered up a bit! Despite being neat the sea the air was sultry and the sea calm but hazy.

I had a follow up appointment with the rheumatologist today. Despite my lack of fitness I am feeling quite well although he was concerned about the fact that my hands are rather puffy and seem to be getting quite tight. The decision was made to try increasing my medication and try to stretch them to keep them flexible. I also have to go and have another load of blood tests since one test I had a few months ago had a dodgy result. The trouble with having regular tests is that sooner or later one of them will be a bit strange and that triggers off a whole round of investigations which usually turn out negative. Well, I hope that is the case this time.

A sad tale

Chairman Bill writes that although he liked Michael Jackson's music none of his songs have any great meaning for him in relation to events in his life. I cannot say the same. Michael Jackson was the same age as me and so when he was singing 'Ben' and 'Got to be There' I was a teenager like him. I can remember calling down the stairs at the youth club disco for my friend to come back upstairs as they were playing our favourite Michael Jackson song. Over the years I have continued to listen to his music although have had some ambivalence about his reported lifestyle.

I will always remember where I was when I heard he had died (in bed and just about to drop off to sleep when Radio 4 news reported that it was believed that he had died) just as we can all remember where we were when Diana died and when we we heard about the 9/11 terrorist attack. (Psychologists call this flashbulb memory).

I have heard many opinions about him and his music over the last few days but this sums up my view. The whole situation was very tragic. Even as a young boy his talent was obvious but he was brought up in an abusive home and it seems never had a childhood himself. He then spent the rest of his life making amazing music but also trying to recreate the childhood he never had and getting himself into trouble as he went. After all, two boys sharing a bed together is fine when they are both children but when one is a child and one is a man with the psychology of a child then this becomes something else. He likened himself to Peter Pan, who never grew up. Although you can hide your age when you are 25, 30 and maybe for some at 40, I know for a fact that at 50 whatever you do, it shows! So, whether he died of natural causes, addiction to painkillers or some other more sinister hand, I don't know, but I would guess that he would never have coped with being a child in an old man's body.