writerlywitterings

Another week begins.

This has been a lovely weekend, spent with my daughter in Derbyshire, where we joined the Mortons for a get-together.

The Jecks family and Mortons have been friends for many years. It all began in the 1920s, when Don Morton and Peter Jecks went to primary school. It was to be the beginning of a lifelong friendship that survived the Second World War, both of them leaving Eltham in – then – Kent and moving apart, marriage and children.

Both of them had large families: Peter had four sons, while Don had a son and two daughters. But over their lives, each had several grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Although Peter and Don saw each other regularly and went on joint holidays with their wives, their children have gradually grown apart. The Mortons all went into healthcare, initially as doctors and nurses in the NHS, while my brothers moved into sales and banking. But we have all kept in touch, and now, with all our parents having died, we are keeping their friendship alive by meeting once a year to share stories, food and rather too much wine to be good for us!

It was a wonderful break, and so much fun to be with such kind and generous folks.

There was one interesting thought while we were there. My brother Clive postulated a new measurement of time. He noted that our father died at the age of 96 three years ago. Since he was nearly 100 years old, Clive mused that it would only be some 20 lifetimes since Christ was alive. Our affectionate term for our father was The Old Man, or TOM. Thus we could consider the passage of time in TOMs. It would be only some four TOMs since the Civil War, for example, or about six TOMs since the Black Death.

I think this could be a useful measure for historians. Or perhaps not!

In any case, it was wonderful to meet with all the Mortons (no matter what their married names) and I hope the Jecks/Morton friendship can last several TOMs.

Have a great week.