Sunday Poser # 116

Sadje is our host for the Sunday Poser and her question this week is

As a child did you listen to your parents? Was mom/dad always right?

I was extremely lucky to have the parents I did. I was closer to my Dad than my Mum and have written posts on both here and here

My Dad was the kind of guy you could talk to about anything. Rather than tell me to do something a specific way,  he would encourage and guide me to make my own decisions, and if they turned out wrong, never once said I told you so. He was there to pick up the pieces on more than one occasion, and the one time he was unhappy about me doing something and could have voiced his opinion, he never said a word.
When that all eventually fell flat, he was there to support me, no reprisals, no judgement, just glad that his little girl was OK which was all that mattered.

Growing up, our friends, boys and girls, were always made welcome. I remember he went outside to pick a rose for one of my friends as it was her birthday. She blushed redder than the flower, but it meant so much to her as neither of her parents were still alive and she was living on her own in a bedsit.

My parents were straightforward and trusted us, especially as teenagers with boyfriends and staying out late. We never actually had curfews, but I know my Mum never slept until she knew we were home safely. In the days of discos, it was sometimes 2am before we got in, but we had our own keys and if we offered the boyfriend a coffee, it didn’t matter how late it was, just as long as we were home.

I was never afraid to ask my Mum and Dad for advice. Usually it was Dad especially in my teens. My sister tended to confide more in Mum, so everything balanced out I guess.

Both of my parents have passed away now, and I miss them.
I remember happy times of camping as a family, collecting wild fruit for Dad’s home brews, games of cribbage in the evenings while Mum was trying to knit, duets on the piano with Dad, and helping Mum with the ironing as a young child, or making cups of tea when she got in from work worn out. I have wonderful memories of Mum coming up to visit us when we moved to Lincolnshire, rabbits and daffodils on the roadside, nut picking, swans, and the doughnut machine which so intrigued her as she watched it in the field spitting out the hay bales when we were in the cottage.

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