A week or so ago I was walking back from the post office when I saw that an elderly man walking a few meters in front of me needed to stop and rest. He sat on a low wall and looked very out of breath, so I stopped and asked him If he needed help. He assured me that he would be fine after a brief rest and that he’d had two operations on his heart which wasn’t working too well. I decided to leave him as I didn’t want to agitate him by making a fuss.
This morning I saw him again, this time sitting on a bench in the park to rest on the way home. He was very pleased to see me and we walked slowly together for a while. He explained that he would be having new tests and that they would change his medication as his heart was beating very slowly. He joked about visiting Lourdes. In fact he had visited Lourdes when he was a young man - not that he needed help then. He remembered having a great time. He also told me about visiting London – he saw the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace, which he enjoyed. Our village is full of newcomers, but he is a real villager and remembers the war, when he worked at La Pallice (Wow! Some of Indiana Jones II was shot there ) and then after the war was over he joined the army and made a career of that. I think that during our conversation he forgot about his health for a moment. I really enjoyed our little talk. Next time I see him I’ve got some questions about the history of the village.
5 comments:
What a lovely way to learn some history, people talk to each other in the street all to seldom these days xx
Well, perhaps soon (but hopefully not to soon), I will be in the same situation as this gentleman.
My landlady lived in this house during the war, and told me about her wartime memories when I was researching the history section of that local book I did two years back. It's funny looking at our kitchen ceiling and thinking of the incendiary bomb that fell through it... and failed to go off, of course, which is why the house is still here....
I can remember the war. I was 7 at the time, but the horrors of the bombing are still vivid in mind!
Everytime I say to someone "During the war . . . " "Oh, belt up, Grandad" they say.
Do you think I ought to do a lengthy post about my wartime experiences? No? Ah well, just a thought. . . .
Nicky: That's the beauty of living in a small village, though not everyone is as friendly as that.
Peter: I wish you a healthy retirement
Dru: it's strange you should say that. The house where we lived in La Rochelle had to be rebuilt when a plane crashed into it during the war...
Keith: My mum was 9 when the war ended. She loved the air raids because her neighbour had a tin of toffies and she was allowed one when they went into the shelter. I'm sure that you have some great memories to share.
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