So sorry Nicky. Doesn't matter when you lose your parents, it's still hard.
I became an orphan in 1992 at the age of 49, but I still felt orphaned. My
mother had already died, and then my Father died. I was admitted to hospital
with they-didn't-know-what on Wednesday morning and my father's funeral was
on Friday. They wouldn't let me leave hospital to travel from Devon to
London to attend the funeral, so I never said goodbye. For months afterwards
I kept thinking that I must phone him.
In July 1969 DH and I lived in Brentwood, Essex to the east of London. We
settled down in front
of the TV for the evening to watch and hear the moon landing. Stayed up into
the night until we were too tired not to got to bed. We followed all the
Apollo missions.
When President Kennedy was killed, I was living in London in a pokey flat
downstairs to my grandparents-in-law. DH was working late and I was doing
the ironing. We didn't have a TV, and DH's grandmother came downstairs to
tell me she'd just seen the news on her TV that he'd been killed.
Can't remember where I was when Elvis died.
Jean in Poole
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