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come and visit we have biscuits
Jul. 12th, 2015 12:58 amMy oldest friend came to visit for a few days while he was over in this part of the world. He had been in Paris with some friends, and then came down here to see me, and then went up to Cambridge to see some of his relations. (more about that in a moment because that is a fascinating story.)
I picked him up from the train, and our conversation was off like a shot. We send each other letters, and talk via FB/email but we don't get to see each other much in person anymore. But still, it is really good to know someone this long and have the conversation be as easy as anything. We have known each other since we were three, and our relationship is very much like siblings. Kurt told the kids something I had forgotten. He told them about the first time he encountered me. We were in daycare together, and he was standing in front of the doll house and crying. I came up to him and asked him why he was upset, and he said he didn't know how to play doll house and I said, "It's okay. I can show you." And that is how our friendship began. It was entertaining to my children to have someone else tell them all about their Mother and what she was like as a child.
We talked about our Moms. His died at Thanksgiving, so he has been doing a lot of grieving, and dealing with all the complicated feelings that come parents. My Mom has loved Kurt like her own since she first met him. (and I mentioned some of the stuff going on in her life.) We talked about stuff we are up to, and all the other stuff that might not matter but does.
The funniest conversation (while walking across the cliffs and being wind-blown) was talking about people we crushed on in high school. Kurt was still in the closet then, but when he mentioned this one class-mate, I laughed and said, "he was very crush-worthy wasn't he? He was just so nice and unaware of how cute he was. A very all-american wrestler with a colgate smile."
The only hiccup with his trip was a rail strike that was going on the day he was supposed to take a train. Thankfully the national express was a go. I know I am such an older sister type because I insisted he get sandwiches and snacks for the bus trip because it was going to be long. And snacks keep people from murdering. He sent me a message that night saying, "that sandwich saved me." Sandwiches save!
So Kurt is kinda/sorta English. (this is where it gets interesting.) His Mother was born here. (up in Blackpool.) In fact she was born during the war. Her Mother (Kurt's Grandmother) was a teenager during the war, and had some sort of relationship with a Polish man, and gave her daughter a Polish name. BUT she never ever said who the Father was. (I being a curious sort did a little research and found that the headquarters for the Polish Air Force during the war was in Blackpool. So, one could see the appeal to a teenage girl.) Later during the war Kurt's Grandmother met and married an American GI. He brought her to Bremerton after the war. It was... a bit of a cultural shock to say the least. THEN? He said, "oh yeah by the way we are moving up to Forks. I got this homestead." Imagine that experience. To move half-way around the world away from everything familiar and having no real family except your little girl, and you find yourself in the middle of nowhere.. in the Olympics. It makes a person want to weep. It sounds like it was a hard life. His Grandmother would say the Americans couldn't make a cup of tea right. They never got the water hot enough. She had more children, and one of them ended up living in England again, and his children remained here. (he went back to America later on.) So there is family everywhere.
Kurt has really enjoyed this trip, and he said that he obviously needs to come back again. (we have talked about doing a trip where we go from London to Blackpool to Edinburgh.) He wants to see where his Mother and Grandmother are from, and get to know this entertaining country even better.
I picked him up from the train, and our conversation was off like a shot. We send each other letters, and talk via FB/email but we don't get to see each other much in person anymore. But still, it is really good to know someone this long and have the conversation be as easy as anything. We have known each other since we were three, and our relationship is very much like siblings. Kurt told the kids something I had forgotten. He told them about the first time he encountered me. We were in daycare together, and he was standing in front of the doll house and crying. I came up to him and asked him why he was upset, and he said he didn't know how to play doll house and I said, "It's okay. I can show you." And that is how our friendship began. It was entertaining to my children to have someone else tell them all about their Mother and what she was like as a child.
We talked about our Moms. His died at Thanksgiving, so he has been doing a lot of grieving, and dealing with all the complicated feelings that come parents. My Mom has loved Kurt like her own since she first met him. (and I mentioned some of the stuff going on in her life.) We talked about stuff we are up to, and all the other stuff that might not matter but does.
The funniest conversation (while walking across the cliffs and being wind-blown) was talking about people we crushed on in high school. Kurt was still in the closet then, but when he mentioned this one class-mate, I laughed and said, "he was very crush-worthy wasn't he? He was just so nice and unaware of how cute he was. A very all-american wrestler with a colgate smile."
The only hiccup with his trip was a rail strike that was going on the day he was supposed to take a train. Thankfully the national express was a go. I know I am such an older sister type because I insisted he get sandwiches and snacks for the bus trip because it was going to be long. And snacks keep people from murdering. He sent me a message that night saying, "that sandwich saved me." Sandwiches save!
So Kurt is kinda/sorta English. (this is where it gets interesting.) His Mother was born here. (up in Blackpool.) In fact she was born during the war. Her Mother (Kurt's Grandmother) was a teenager during the war, and had some sort of relationship with a Polish man, and gave her daughter a Polish name. BUT she never ever said who the Father was. (I being a curious sort did a little research and found that the headquarters for the Polish Air Force during the war was in Blackpool. So, one could see the appeal to a teenage girl.) Later during the war Kurt's Grandmother met and married an American GI. He brought her to Bremerton after the war. It was... a bit of a cultural shock to say the least. THEN? He said, "oh yeah by the way we are moving up to Forks. I got this homestead." Imagine that experience. To move half-way around the world away from everything familiar and having no real family except your little girl, and you find yourself in the middle of nowhere.. in the Olympics. It makes a person want to weep. It sounds like it was a hard life. His Grandmother would say the Americans couldn't make a cup of tea right. They never got the water hot enough. She had more children, and one of them ended up living in England again, and his children remained here. (he went back to America later on.) So there is family everywhere.
Kurt has really enjoyed this trip, and he said that he obviously needs to come back again. (we have talked about doing a trip where we go from London to Blackpool to Edinburgh.) He wants to see where his Mother and Grandmother are from, and get to know this entertaining country even better.
