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    Family!

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    I've been going through a lot of family photo's recently, trying to organise the many hundreds of digital copies I have collected over the years. I did spend an awful long time scanning in photographs and am happy to have some truly wonderful memories to cherish forever. When pictures are on on computer, they don't degrade or get lost. All of my data is backed up to hard drive and the cloud, so I am confident they are safe...fingers crossed.

    Staying with family in Portsmouth is important to me because I am of course making new memories to add to my collection. I do have other family as well, those living just down the road in Fareham, who I also need to spend time with, before I once again go on my travels. Finding the time to see everyone is hard, especially now I am working, writing and volunteering so much and I do need to change that.

    I am spending some valuable, quality time with my Fathers family, something I feel is important right now; these are special days in my life at a very traumatic time. My Cousin Rachel, who like me, isn't a very emotional person said how happy she was to have me here at the moment and I have to agree with her, I am grateful to be with my kin folk; I haven't spent such valuable family time in years.

    Living with my Aunt is very different to my life with Darrell. In Spain, we were very much on our own as a couple and after speaking to him briefly tonight he is feeling lonely; for that reason it's time he left. We never really had the chance to bond with people in Spain; dealing with the ups and downs in our own life was the priority. We knew many people in Gran Alacant but they were just not close. As two gay man with little family contact, we had always regarded friendships as important. If companionship isn't there, then our lives are all the poorer for it.

    Darrell constantly complains about how much he dislikes the UK, but the reality is, this is our home, it always was. Spain offered the chance of a new life, with hot sunshine and white sandy beaches, but it never really offered us the bonds and connections to people and places they we both needed to fully embrace our new path. Spain was indeed a very lonely place and I am glad I got out when I did. If I had stayed, I would have resented it even further.

    Sadly we didn't have enough time to fully integrate with those that live there, had we done so, things may well have been very different. There are some fantastic characters living in Gran Alacant; we just didn't have the time to get to know them properly.

    In the end I chose family over acquaintances, duty over adventure and stability over insecurity; maybe my days of travelling are well and truly over and I am happy to be finally living back home; maybe, just maybe it's time for me to settle down, after all it has been 47 years trying!
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    The Crippling Cost Of Growing Old!

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    This morning I had a rather lengthy phone call with my Mother and Father; initially just a chat and catch up. I was going to see them at home later today, but the weather has put pay to that idea. Nevertheless we had a conversation about their current situation. Readers to 'Roaming Brit' are aware that my Mum hasn't been well, having spent a prolonged period at Queen Alexandra Hospital in Portsmouth. She is only 69 years old, but has had to start thinking about her old age sooner rather than later, due to her current state of health.

    My parents are luckier than most, having worked all their lives; they have saved hard and are relatively comfortably off, owning their own home in the affluent area of Catisfield, near the south coast village of Titchfield, in Hampshire. They have reached a crossroads in their life, where they have to start thinking about the future and the care they may need as they approach old age. The options open to them are still limited, despite their financial position. Property prices on the south coast are among the highest in the country and one would think having a mortgage free home to sell at such a premium price, would guarantee both my parents future. Well nothing is quite as it seems and middle income pensioners such as Mum and Dad are being squeezed more than most. These are the people who lived frugally, never smoked or drank and saved for a rainy day, yet they see their capital drain away because of the times they live in.

    Mum and Dad are waiting to move into a purpose built complex, situated near their home town. The gated community called Friary Meadow is being built to cater for people of my parents age and above. There is a gymnasium, cinema, shops and health care facilities as well as twenty four hour security, offering peace of mind to those who want to retire in an environment that caters for their every need. This is not something most people could afford of course, the costs are astronomical. I was shocked at the prices being charged to reside in such a development.

    The cost to live here starts at a staggering 375,000 pounds for a two bedroom apartment, rising to 600,000 pounds for a three bedroom house. On top of these premium prices, one will have to pay 600 pounds a month in maintenance and extra charges for parking. These are figures that astound me; retirement seems to be out of the reach of most people, at least at this level. I would certainly never be able to afford to live here, like most of you who read this blog I'm sure.

    Of course Mum and Dad do have other options open to them. There are much cheaper retirement homes available, for around a third of the price or they could have their home adapted to cater for their current needs. Whatever preference they decide upon however, it will not be cheap. There is very little state help for people in my parents position, they have got just too much money. 

    Lets put this into perspective, my parents are not multi millionaires, they are just two individuals who worked relentlessly all their life in order to afford the lifestyle they enjoy today. They are being penalised for cautious accounting and doing the right thing. There is absolutely no provision for personal and social care in Britain and consequently they are liable for all the costs involved in growing old.

    For those who need to move to an old peoples home, the weekly cost can be as high as 1500 pounds. Pensioners are required to sell their assets to pay for this care, with no government funding available. People who have battled to pay for a home will potentially lose everything for basic care needs, despite paying into the welfare system all their lives. Is this really what we want to happen to our older generation?

    Once again I can only compare Britain with Spain, since these are the only two countries I have lived in for any length of time. Unlike the UK, Spain has very little old age facilities available, since families are expected to take care of older relatives. Nonetheless, those who have to go into sheltered accommodation will have to pay a fraction of the costs their UK counterparts are expected to fund. Property prices in Spain are also much lower than those in Britain, with suitable homes easier to source or modify and with the mediterranean climate more efficacious to old age, you can immediately see just how much better it is to grow old in Spanish climbs.

    Other factors such as a higher cost of living, inflated fuel costs and lower state pensions in the UK also add to the problem of retiring in an unforgiving climate. Speaking to my Father today, it does seem that Brexit is also taking its toll economically. The agent trying to sell their property has warned them of a slowing housing market, which is likely to continue on a downward fall, until Britain finally leaves the EU in March 2019. Selling a family home at such a difficult time could prove to be a problem. My parents like all those in a similar position have to secure enough capital to enjoy a fruitful dotage.

    I am of a generation that will not have the luxuries my parents had in later life. I will not have access to to the benefits they enjoy and will almost certainly never claim a state pension, as the age in which it is allocated grows ever higher. These are issues that have been left unattended and ignored for far too long and the Government need to get to grips with the growing problem of paying for old age. Until a more congruous policy is introduced and people like my parents can enjoy a more fulfilled, stress free caducity or families start to once again care for their own, we are all going to continue to suffer the indignity that our advancing years propagate. There are some standards in life, that we should all adhere to and support, caring for our aged population in one of them!
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    Beginning My Adventure With Spirituality!

    Church penelope-wren Singapore
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    My earliest memory of my journey with spirituality started when I was about six. We lived in Singapore and on some Sundays my Dad would drop my little sister and I off at the Sunday School. I suspect that my mum and dad were after a little free time to themselves. My little sister is four years younger than me but I have a vague memory that she and I stayed together.

    I remember that we would have these little books in which we got to stick stamps of Jesus in. I really liked the pictures. They were usually related to the stories that they taught us like the Good Samaritan. This was my favourite part of the Sunday School Class. That is probably why it is the only part that I remember.

    When I was in the second year infants in Singapore, I was selected to be one of the narrators in the school nativity play. I loved, loved doing this! In those days, I had a incredible memory and I memorized not only my part but also everyone else’s. We have a tape that my dad made that Christmas when my maternal grandparents came out to visit us in Singapore and a lot of the tape has me reciting all of the narration. I still remember a lot of that narration. It feels as familiar as a glove.

    I can still remember the wonderful feeling that I used to get every time we rehearsed and when we gave the performance. It wasn’t just the feeling of accomplishment that you get as you put on a play for parents, it was something else that I felt. It felt warm and safe.

    In October 1968, we went back to England and after living with my grandparents in Southampton, we moved into our house in Fareham in January 1969. Whilst living with my paternal grandparents, my grandfather taught me how to pray. I used to say this prayer every night before I went to sleep for years.
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    On my 8th birthday – May 1969 – my friend and I went down Fareham Park Road to a little church down on Gudgeheath Lane. I have just looked this Church up on the internet and it is the Hill Park Baptist Church. I have often wondered which religion it was and suspected that it was either a branch of the Baptist Church or some sort of Pentecostal Church.

    I really enjoyed going to this church. I loved to sing the songs about Jesus and to hear the stories from the Bible. I went regularly and even took my little sister along. When I think how old I was and how little my sister was, I marvel at how my mum and dad would let me look after her and walk down Fareham Park Road and take her to church! Not something that I would let my children do when they were small. The world was a much safer place in those days.

    I remember the Church giving me and my sister a Christmas present one year. Mine was a circular pink plastic box with a clear lid. Inside were lots of tiny beads of all sorts of different colors for threading. The lid swiveled and a little vent would open up to access the beads. I loved this gift and cherished it for a few years.

    After a few months, I was invited to go to their Tuesday night meetings in downtown Fareham. We were always picked up on a coach at Fareham Park Road just outside Coppice Way which drove us down to the hall. I went alone or with my friends. My little sister was too young for this adventure. I went for a little while although I didn’t feel as comfortable in this church service as I did at the Sunday School. I didn’t like the feeling that I had when people ‘spoke in tongues’.

    What added to that uncomfortable feeling was the man with one arm. It wasn’t his one arm that frightened me, it was the way that he paid too much attention to me and got into my personal space. After awhile, I told my mum that I didn’t want to go to the Tuesdays meetings anymore and soon after, I stopped going to the church on Sundays. The man was very creepy and I didn’t want to be around him.
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    Being christened in the Church of England, I took myself off to the Sunday Services at St. Columbia Church at the corner of Hillson Drive and Highlands Road when I was about fourteen. I wish that I could say that it was my spiritual interest that took me there, but it was a good looking boy from school that was in the choir. Just to get a glimpse at this young man entering the church and then singing was enough to get me there each Sunday. Sometimes a friend came with me. She was interested in taking confirmation classes, but I didn’t feel comfortable doing that. I didn’t want that type of commitment. I was familiar with the church service, but I had my own ideas. I didn’t feel that what they taught made sense to me. I didn’t necessarily think it was bad, it just seemed too mysterious and unclear. Spiritually, I felt at an impasse. After about eight months, I stopped attending the services at St. Columbia.

    As life got more complicated in my teens and I grew very unhappy and depressed, I prayed often and even branched out from the set prayer that my Grandfather had taught me. I cried out to God to help me, to give me strength and to help me understand the chaos that surrounded me.

    Then one day, He found me and I began receiving the answers that I had needed. It was the day that the lady that I babysat for asked my friend and I to keep two young men company at her house …..

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    Rab's World!

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    "Experience is something you don't get until . . . just after you need it!"
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    It's Christmas!

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    Christmas has arrived at Cancer Research in Portsmouth. Today the first consignment of Christmas stock arrived and by Thursday everything should be delivered and on sale. In contrast to Spain, the festive season in Britain  always starts earlier, especially in charity shops and there is a reason why. Charities make most of their money during the Christmas period, so need to get their stock out as soon as they can. Yes I can hear my readers moaning, but it is a fact of life. When I worked for Oxfam, we also had our winter stock out at this time of year; it is important to stay ahead of the game and compete with other major charity shops and the larger high street stores also.

    I had a wonderful day volunteering today. I highly recommend everyone gives some time to help others; it is heartwarming giving something back. I intend to always give time for a cause I believe in; at Cancer Research, I do feel part of a family, a team of individuals all campaigning for the same goals.

    If you have a morning or afternoon a week to spare, please do come along to our store in Commercial Road, Portsmouth; as ever we are always looking for volunteers!; I know you will find it as rewarding as I do!

    "We make a living by what we get, but we make a life, by what we give!"
    (Winston Churchill)
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    Reunion?

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    On Saturday I saw another old friend from my college days in Fareham, my home town. This time Sean popped his head around the door of the Newcome Arms, where I am working in Fratton. He had promised he would come in and say hi when he was in the area and low and behold he did; another familiar face I haven't seen in a long while.

    It is difficult trying to have a conversation while working, but we did briefly manage to chat about the 'old times.' Sean reminisced about many things I had forgotten. My memory from those days in the 1980s are somewhat hazy; a lot of water and alcohol has passed under the proverbial bridge since then  and I am pleased Sean helped to jog the old grey matter.

    Sean married the girl he fell in love with at college, someone who I also knew very well; they are still together today, thirty years later and I am delighted for them both. Once again, just like my encounter with Garry on Tuesday, I discovered our lives travelled in very different directions; Sean has a very successful career under his belt, I wasn't so lucky, enjoying life rather too much and not thinking about the future, as I should have. It's strange, listening to Sean, Garry and Nathan; each of them are talking about retirement being just around the corner, yet I'll probably be working in some form until they day I drop. Looking back, I really should have done things differently, then maybe my life wouldn't be the mess it is today.

    Sean and I spoke about the possibility of a reunion, especially with those who were close to our group at Fareham Tertiary College. Both of us agreed, it would be nice for us all to get together to celebrate the end of our college days in 1989; so if you are reading this entry and went to college with us, I would love to hear from you. Please use the contact form below or navigate to the 'Contact Me Section,' in this blog and lets make this event happen.

    Returning to the UK has been very therapeutic for me in many ways, especially reconnecting with friends and family. Despite my life not being anywhere near where it should be in terms of success, I am happy it has brought me home. I have a very strange feeling that I am supposed to be here at this point in my life, I just have no idea why or what the outcome of this visit will be. My whole existence is up in the air at present and the only structure I have is built around family and the people I have made contact with once again. I have always been a sentimental soul and believe in the power of benevolence. I have been lucky enough in life to have acquired some fascinating people along the way, who have always been there through the good and bad times. Sean has been one of those, even if we haven't been close; on Saturday we continued where we last left off; that is the mark of true companionship!

    I have delved very deep to find a few old photographs but sadly didn't find many. Back in the 1980s we didn't have digital cameras or walk around with smart phones, consequently I have very little material from that time. Sean if you read this blog, as I know you will, maybe you have some photo's at home I could use; feel free to send them on.

    Once again it was great catching up with Sean and I look forward to seeing more of him in the weeks to come. It is important to keep the past alive as we get older, without reminders of our youth we can't possibly feel contentment in life. These experiences I am enjoying with Sean and many others are once again at the forefront of my mind, as I continue a journey along a road of have walked before, only this time making new memories. If my time in Britain has taught me anything, it's about the importance of reaffirming my connection to home and everyone who has played a role in my life. Celebrating association and attachment has become paramount, what better reason is there to come back to the country of my birth!
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