Today would have been my parents 58th wedding anniversary.
Amazing.
And while the reality is Dad died 23 years ago and Mum 7, they had a good marriage.
Yes there were some hard times along the way.
Some that still hurt deeply when I think of them.
As is often the case, they were brought on by stress triggered by a lack of money, health issues and/or family bullshit they were pulled into.
But while there are some moments that I wish could be erased forever, I was brought up in a house of love and support.
Love for each other.
Love for me.
Love for us.
As I said at both my parents funerals, I never wanted for their support or compassion and it was only as I grew older that I realised how lucky I am for that.
The photo above was taken at the Nottingham Registry Office where they got married.
They’d been living in London but came to Nottingham to be closer to my Dad’s family.
They were only supposed to be there for a few years – but you know how it is.
I always thought that must have been hard for my Mum.
Don’t get me wrong, she liked Nottingham … but she was Italian, had moved to London for adventure but met Dad, fell in love and then found herself in the Midlands, even further away from her family.
I think when I came along, it may have helped because she wouldn’t have wanted to raise me in central London and so Nottingham probably became quite a good place then.
She stayed there for a long time.
A lot longer than she had lived in Italy.
We had talked – prior to her death – if she wanted to move back to Italy.
It was a real consideration.
Dad had died. Long term neighbours had died or moved away. Her sister was alone in the family home back in Guardiagrele.
But it didn’t happen and now her ashes, like Dad’s, are scattered over their beloved garden. The garden that was my family home and always will be, despite eventually selling the house.
I’ve written about how hard that decision was.
How conflicted I was when it suddenly became mine.
But I think they would be happy how I handled it. Plus I have a beautiful jar of soil from that house with me. And by selling the incredibly generous gift of their inheritance, I was able to buy our family home in the UK. A home with a garden my parents would absolutely approve of.
I still remember the bizarre moment Mum and I went to register Dad’s death and we realised it was in the same place as where they got married.
It had a weird closed circle to it.
Similar to the fact Mum died in the same hospital where I was born.
I miss them. I regret that I didn’t really talk to them about these things.
Part of that was because I thought I’d have more time to do it but alas, Dad fell ill when I was just 24. And then I kept moving countries.
But I’m very glad they got married 58 years ago today.
Because they gave me a childhood and a family that was as special as they were.
Happy Anniversary Mum and Dad. I hope you’re holding hands and laughing at the silliness and joy your son and his family get up to.
Rx