A Promise Kept

A Promise Kept

I was in my mid twenties when my Mum and Dad decided to move home. They had always lived close by, so the thought of them moving away upset me at first, but knowing that their dream had always been a place in the country, I soon adjusted to the idea. They were both in their mid fifties, and both loved the area around Huntingdon, so it was no surprise that they settled on a refurbished cottage near St Neots.

It was about two months after deciding on it, that they moved in, and when I saw it for the first time, I fell in love with it too. The rooms seemed so tiny and yet felt so cosy and welcoming, and although there was no garden only a yard, Mum had already been busy planting up pots with a variety of flowers, which made for a wonderfully colourful display.

Although they had brought a lot of their furniture with them, most of it was too big, so they kept what they could but they had to buy a small cottage settee and two chairs for the sitting room, which fitted beautifully. There were two bedrooms, one of which they said was for me when I came to stay, which I remember had a cosy duvet with a cover that matched the pink curtains. To complete the dream, Dad surprised Mum one day by buying a puppy, she had always wanted a Pug, and he’d managed to find a breeder and got a lovely little girl which they called Chuggie. The whole place felt just perfect, and it was so comforting to see them both so happy, living what had always been their dream.

Across the road from the cottage, were fields which led down to the river and Dad would go there most days to enjoy his favourite pastime of fishing. Often, Mum would make up a picnic, put the little dog’s lead on and join him for lunch. She would then walk for miles with Chuggie while Dad carried on fishing, and I tried to spend almost every weekend with them, enjoying the lovely walks with Mum across the fields.

A little while after they had moved there, I took John along to meet them for the first time, and it didn’t take them long to love him too. They were both so pleased when shortly afterwards we were married.

Life seemed ideal, until they had been there for about ten years, when Dad’s health was not too good and he started to find it difficult to climb the steep stairs. Fortunately they contacted the local authorities, applied for and got a retirement bungalow. It was newly built, in a little cul de sac, and most importantly it had a garden, which Mum has secretly missed for all this time. I couldn’t wait to see the new place, and Mum couldn’t wait to show me her new pride and joy, and we rushed up there the first weekend after they had moved in.

Mum always made us a lovely roast dinner whenever we went to see them, and was busy in the kitchen when we arrived. I went in to see Dad who was looking a little wistfully out of the window onto the road, and I remember asking him if he missed the cottage. He turned, and said, “If your Mum’s happy that’s all that matters, anyway we should think ourselves lucky.”

We went over to see them most weekends, they seemed to be settling in alright, and Dad seemed happier. He suffered with his back, and seemed to be in a lot of pain, he never complained, but I could tell. I used to ring them each night to make sure they were OK, and one time Mum said that Dad had been to see the Doctor, nothing to worry about but his blood pressure was up, and he was put on tablets. When I saw them the following weekend Dad seemed a little quiet, and a bit distant.

“Are you OK Dad?” I asked

“Yes fine, just a bit of high blood pressure, nothing to worry about.” He said, in his usual not wanting to make a fuss way.

Mum took John and me outside to show us how well the roses were doing and all the plants she had put in pots, it was an absolute picture, so colourful. I left Mum and John chatting in the garden, and went inside to see Dad, and he turned to me and said

“You will always look after Mum if something happens to me, won’t you?”

I remember fumbling for words and saying something like “Nothing is going to happen to you.”

But he looked straight at me and said, “Just promise me.”

Before I could answer, Mum came in with John carrying a tray of tea. We chatted as usual, had dinner, and when we left they both seemed fine. Dad didn’t come to the door, because of the pain in his back, I kissed him goodbye and gave him a hug.

The following Saturday night, I had a bit of a headache, and was just getting into bed when John came into the bedroom looking worried.

“Get dressed Love” he said “we have to go, apparently your Dads had a fall. Peggy from next door is with them, and she said to come straight over.”

I don’t remember much about the journey just turning the corner of their road and seeing this black estate car outside the bungalow I walked up the path to the already open front door. There were voices coming from the sitting room where Mum was sitting on the settee with Peggy next to her. Then a man came in and asked me if I wanted to see my Dad, I went to get up, but John gently stopped me and slowly shook his head. I don’t remember Peggy leaving, just Mum sobbing.

“He had gone to have a lie down” Mum said between sobs “he wasn’t feeling too well” and apparently while she was phoning the Doctor, she heard a thump and he was on the floor.

Heart attack, the doctor said, there was nothing they could do.

I made mum a warm drink, and she looked exhausted so I helped her into bed. I tucked the duvet around her and lay on top next to her with my hand on top of hers, until the sobs subsided, and I knew she was asleep. I got off the bed and went over to her I gently kissed her forehead.

I quietly whispered “I will always be here for you Mum” and I swear I felt something brush against my hand, which made me remember that unfinished conversation I had with my Dad, “I promise” I said.

True to my word, we looked after Mum as best we could for many years, taking her on holidays with us, having her and Chuggie come to stay, and generally doing everything we could to make her life as comfortable and happy as we could. In time she unfortunately began to suffer with a few ailments, and had one or two falls. Each time we were there for her, dropping everything at a moments notice to rush up there and hold her hand. The time eventually came when she was taken very ill and stayed in hospital for several months, where we visited her nearly every day, right up until the end. Her passing hit us both very hard, but I felt glad that I had been able to keep that promise I had made to my Dad all those years before, and I hope that somewhere in heaven they are together again in their little dream cottage, by a river where Dad can fish.