My parents live in St Thomas, Jamaica the same parish which they were both born in many years ago. My fist trip at fifteen comprised a trip to where may parents were born, grew up and spent their formative years before coming to the UK in the early sixties. They lived in the countryside and I spent many a day in Plantain Garden River and the Caribbean depending on whichever took our fancy. I have since considered Jamaica to be my home and find I am able to exhale and relax as the car drives me from Norman Manley Airport in Kingston home.
I have always felt this same feeling of solace when I was in the presence of my mother and also now my father as I have grown older. After two years of lockdown and six months of restructuring in the work place I found myself retired. I celebrated my birthday had two terrible head colds sneezing, running nose and plenty of green bogey. I spent of those last three months in bed. I needed to go home. In early January I told my husband I was going, I booked my ticket to leave within the next fortnight and left the UK. I was not sure how long I would be gone.
I did not tell my parents I was coming as I did not want them rushing around getting ready for me. I told them I
had sent something with a friend and they needed to collect it from the airport. The shock on their faces when they saw me was priceless. It took my mum a few minutes but it took my dad a few miles in the car before he turned around and connected all the dots.
I stayed eight weeks and could have stayed longer. We chatted, laughed, talked family business, went to Kingston, shopping ate and sat around doing nothing. There was time to talk phones, WhatsApp, zoom and YouTube and the things we never had time for as I raised my own family.
This time really brought us together and I consider myself really lucky to now be able to spend quality time just sitting about, talking things my parents want to talk about. I look forward to spending more of this type of time with them again.
Ps look at them twinning red. :-)
Sandra