Regular readers will know I’ve been researching and clawing through my autobiography for years and occasionally come across a little gem which either clarifies something or sends me up an entirely different road.
Durham County Council have been helping me piece together my early years (which I’ve been writing about here on my website) and at some point found my registration card which I had stored away but turned up again as I was packing some papers.
When I read the card again I felt dreadfully sad although not so much for me; I already know what happened to me though I didn’t know the kids home I was in was somehow connected to the North East Workhouse. No, I felt really sad for my birth Mother who, although I rejected her later in life for putting me in care, had been accommodated in Crossley Sanitorium and only she could have known what that experience was like.
As I’m left with my thoughts I am at least thankful to Durham County Council for giving me another piece of my jigsaw.
Today I went back to the gardens of remembrance at the crematorium to pay respects to my foster Mam Katie who passed away 40 years ago today. I’d made the trip many times before in order to see the book open with her name on the page but today was different. For some reason, maybe because it was raining I’m not sure, as I walked round the gardens I felt them to be totally soul-less and I felt no connection with my mother at all. Even looking at the book with her name in left me spiritually indifferent. I won’t go back. The fact I am sharply aware of my mothers birth date and passing date is enough for me to know she is always in my heart and I get more comfort on those days from my own reflections and private prayer.