Remember Yesterday

​

It should have been a time of sadness, and for most in the family it was. Grandad had not been very well for a month or two, but Steven didn’t know that much about it.

        “Is he very old?” he had asked his mother a week earlier when she was telling him how poorly his ‘Gram’pa’ was.
        “Yes I guess he is,” she answered quietly, “but do you know, just a few months ago I didn’t think he was.”
        It was the kind of answer that grown ups gave, which Steven could never quite get the hang of.
        “Well,” he tried again, “Is he older than Mr Bradbury?”
Mr Bradbury is the man who stops the cars at the main crossing on the way to school.  
        He has a bushy white beard, and bushy white hair - except for that bit in the middle where there’s no hair at all. He looked up at his mum, “is he as old as that?” he persisted.
        Mum smiled at her little boy, in spite of her sadness, she couldn’t help being amused at his perplexity.
        “Yes I think he is...he is a very old man.”
        “Heavens!” he said, the nearest this eight year old ever got to swearing “I thought Mr Bradbury was the oldest man in the world.”

        “Come on now Steven,” suddenly his mum was calling, bringing him back to today. “we must get ready; the cars will be here soon.”
        Steven put on his shoes, cleaner today than usual, and then struggled with his coat, as he walked to the window.  There were lots of people outside, and still a few in the living room, talking, and - Steven had heard - one or two of them crying.  Then he saw the three black cars coming along the road.  They stopped outside the house, and one of them he noticed, had glass sides.
        Mum came back and called.  “Steven, come on, we’re all ready to go...come on now.”
        Steven had a quick look round.  He was sure there was something he was going to take with him, but he couldn’t remember what it was, or where he had put it.  
        He went outside and stood near his mother, feeling somewhat ill at ease.  He knew it was to do with Gram’pa, but no one had said anything he properly understood.
        He had heard one of his uncle’s; couldn’t remember his name though, talking about a good innings, and someone else had said he had gone well past his sell by date.   “More grown up talk” he muttered.  ”how does anybody know what anyone else is talking about?”
        Eventually he was squeezed into one of the cars and found himself on someone’s knee.  He was facing forward so he could not see who it was, and neither could he turn because of the large number of people squashed into the back seat , but he knew it was a lady, by her softness, and the nice smell.
        “I haven’t seen you since you were little.” said the soft lady.  
Steven did not recognize her voice, but he liked what she said, as it implied that he was no longer little.
        “I’m eight now.” he replied, not mentioning the fact that he was eight years and three weeks.
        “I know.” said the soft lady,  “A bit to big to be sitting on my knee.” she laughed, pushing him slightly to ease some point of discomfort.
        Steven pondered on this.  His house was a normally a happy house, but so far today, the only sound of laughter was from this soft lady.
        “I wonder who she is.” he thought, and turned his head to the right, to see if he could see her reflection in the car window.  He could vaguely make out a round face, but it was a bit dark.  She seemed to have a lot of hair, but wasn’t sure if it was a hat.  “It might be a hat.” he thought,  noticing that the two ladies squashed up together on the front seat next to the driver were wearing hats...and so is the driver.” he noticed.
        Then he tried to see to his left, but it wasn’t easy.  There were two more people on the back seat of the car, and another across their knee’s, so there was not much room to move.
        Perhaps this is another grown up thing he thought to himself as they smoothly flowed through unfamiliar roads. “Its not like this when I’m in my dad’s car.”
        This caused him to sit up a little and try to turn so he could see who was next to the soft lady.  “Steady lad.” said the man in the middle, gently but firmly removing Steven’s elbow from his rather portly stomach. “There’s not enough room for jumping up and down y’know.”
        From his position on the soft lady’s knee, and just behind the driver, he could see himself in the drivers centre mirror.  He noticed that if he leaned across to his right, he could just see the man in the middle.  Another ‘uncle’ he didn’t know.  He leaned a little more to try to see who was in the corner, but before he got that far the soft lady stopped him.
        “Oi Steven, you’ll have to stop wriggling, you’ve got a very boney bottom you know.”
        That made Steven laugh to himself, but he was restless and starting now to get a little bored with it all.
        “Sorry Auntie.” he said.
        “Oh’ I’m not your Auntie, Steven; don’t you know who I am?” she asked, and then not waiting for an answer she said, “I’m your cousin Marjorie”
        Steven was perplexed once again.  How could this grown up lady be his cousin?  He didn’t know anyone called Marjorie.  He did have a cousin Mary, who he saw once or twice each year, but she was six.  And he had another cousin somewhere; Robert they call him, but he’s about the same age as me, or a bit older, he was thinking.  Frowning now.  How could this soft lady be his cousin? Another grown up thing he could not understand.
        Then the car stopped, the driver got out, and then came to open the back doors.
        “Out you come young man.” he said, giving Steven a helpful pull.
        “Ooh’ that’s better!” said Marjorie, relieved that Steven, and particularly his boney bottom had been removed.  Soon they were all out of the car, and for the first time he was able to look at his fellow passengers.  The soft lady, was wearing a hat on her quite bushy hair, above a round smiling face.  She bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then she put on a sort of a pretend sad face
        “Don’t you remember me?” She asked still smiling.
        Steven felt uncomfortable.
        “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you later.” she said.
        By now everyone had by now all got out of the cars, and were walking about in little circles, restarting their dead or aching limbs, and Steven looked at all the people for some signs of recognition.  He didn’t know any of them.  The two ladies who had been in the front of ‘his’ car seemed to be together, and one of them was doing a funny little step; she whispered something to the other, older lady, and then she rushed off.  Sharing the back seat with Steven and the soft lady had been three men.  One of them, much younger than the other two, had somehow been across both set of legs, and had contrived to do so with his back to Steven.  How he did that he could not fathom, but made a mental note to see for himself on the return journey.
        Steven looked around him. ”I’ve never been here before.” he said to himself, noticing first all the flower beds, and the grass edges to the paths.  There were trees all around, and some buildings.  Then he saw what looked like a little church, with lots of flowers on a big table by  the door.  H could also see that the car with the glass sides was now parked by the ‘church’ doorway, well away from all others.
        Seeing his mum and dad with a group from the other car,  he wandered across to them, but before he reached them, someone said  “Ah’ here comes Steven.” 
        One of the ladies had spotted him  “He has grown a lot since I last saw him, about two years I should say, and he’s a foot taller.”
        Steven was having a good look at this lady, when suddenly she swooped on him.  Tall and thin, with a tall thin face, and a pointed nose across which was balanced a pair of thin spectacles.  She came down so quick, like a bird after a worm that he ducked, fearing that she would peck out his eyes.
        “I’m only trying to give you a kiss.” she said as she straitened the glasses which had somehow been knocked awry in Stevens haste “I wasn’t trying to bite you!.”
        She seemed to be a little cross, and slightly uncomfortable at having been rejected in front of some of her family.
        “Don’t you want to say ‘hello’ to your Auntie Vi?” asked mum, aware of her sisters’ embarrassment, “it’s such a long time since she’s seen you. I think you have upset her by turning away like that.”
      “Sorry Auntie Vi” aware that suddenly he was the centre of attention. “You made me jump.”
        “Never mind” she said, bending down once again “I’m sure you didn’t mean it.”
        This time Steven kept his nerve, and the kiss was allowed.  Honour was satisfied, and Vi, having regained her composure, was able to return to more important family matters,.  
        Steven, glad that he was no longer in the spotlight, wondered off once more.  He had noticed that there were a few young people amongst the assembly, most of them not quite so young as he, but there was one little boy of about three or four.  None of them spoke to him, but Steven had the feeling that they looked at him with the same sense of curiosity he felt,  looking at them.  He wondered who they were, and to which of the grown-ups they belonged.
        He had found his way to a little group which included his father.  He pulled on his coat tail, whereupon his father looked down, probably glad to get away, if only for a few minutes, from polite small talk with some people that he did not know too well.
        “What is it Steven?”  He asked.
        “Who are the children?”
        “Mm, I’m not really sure.” was his answer “I suppose they will be your cousins.” then after a brief pause he added, “your mother will know; better ask her.”
        “Where’s Robert then...and Mary?”  The only boy cousin he could remember.
        “Well now...you see... Robert and Mary are  your cousins on my side, but these children will be cousins on your mothers’ side.  Do you see?” he asked hopefully.
        Steven didn’t see, and his confusion grew.  Just then his mother called to him.    “Steven, you haven’t said ‘hello’ to Aunt Trudy yet.”
        He looked around, trying to remember which one was Aunt Trudy, while mum was indicating that he should go to her. She was with a group in which there was a man and a lady, a boy about fifteen, and a girl about twelve.
        “This is your Auntie Trudy.” said mum.  Another thin lady, though not quite as tall.  Just the same Steven was on guard in case there was another sudden dive.  “This is my youngest sister; don’t you remember her?”
        Steven didn’t really, but he was puzzled again.  He had heard his mother say that she was the baby in her family; a number of times she had said that she was the youngest, but now he though that t she was saying something different.
        “I thought you told me that you were the youngest”
        “Yes,” said his mum. “I have four sisters, and they are all older than me, but Trudy is the youngest”
        This was all very confusing, so Steven turned to the two younger people in the group. “Are you my cousins then?” he enquired brightly.
        “Yes” said the girl.
        “No” said the boy simultaneously. 
        “It’s a bit difficult,” said the man; “John is my boy, but not Trudy’s;   and Mary is Trudy’s girl but not mine.” he looked round   “Where’s Jean?;  Oh’ she’s about somewhere...now Jean is from us both.”
        Steven was in a fog.  When he spoke amongst his friends, everyone knew what everyone was talking about, but when ‘grown ups’ were talking it didn’t seem to make sense.   When ‘grown ups’ are talking to each other, he wondered, did any of them ever know what they were talking about?
He heard the familiar voice in his ear, as his mother bent down to whisper “I’ll explain it to you later” she said.
        “And will you explain about the soft lady.” Steven asked.  Now it was his mother’s turn to look puzzled.  However, she was not able to respond further, because just then there was a movement towards the little chapel.
It was quite small, but big enough for them all to get in, and there was some music, and a smell of flowers.
        It was just like being in church on a Sunday morning, except that this man spoke about his Gram’pa.  But no, it wasn’t quite the same as church on a Sunday morning.  It was surprisingly quiet except for some sniffling sounds, and he saw his mum put her hanky to her face a few times.  

        In church there were the sounds of children; footsteps when the vergers walked to the front with the collection boxes, and then the sounds of coins being dropped into them as they moved, as if with some natural power to the back of the congregation, now full, into the waiting hands of the vergers.  Neither was there any singing.  Steven liked the sound of the choir and liked to sing along from the hymn book, even though sometimes the words puzzled him.  This was dark and sombre, and he felt uncomfortable, hoping it wouldn’t take too long.
        At last they came out.  Most of the people looked at the bunches of flowers, and then, one by one., and two by two, they started to get back into the black cars.  Steven couldn’t tell which was which as they looked the same, so he was glad when he saw the soft lady standing next to one of them.
        “Am I with you again?” he asked when he reached her.
       “Of course you are Steven...are you alright?” 
        Steven wondered why she asked.  “More grown up talk, I suppose”, but he couldn’t help noticing that her happy round face had changed to a sad round face, and that her eyes looked red.
       She got into the car, and she had to wriggle a bit, causing the equally rounded man in the middle of the seat to shuffle up, in turn causing the man in the corner to shout out, “Not so much Ray, I can hardly breath”
When they were settled the soft lady reached for Steven, “Come on then” as she pulled him in, and on to her knee.  
        Steven was disappointed to see that, as he was again last to get in, he was not able to see how the young man to his left managed to manoeuvre into position, still with his back to him.
        The car moved quietly away on its return to home, a strangely sombre journey.  Steven had until now, been unmoved by the events of the day, perhaps not truly aware of it’s significance.  He had not yet realized, nor could he, that his Grandfather was no longer part of his life, even though he would stay with him in his memory.  As far back as he could recall, his ‘Gram’pa’ had been there.  Not with him all the time, but part of the structure of the family, and that part of family life which meant  ‘a day out’, ‘visiting’, ‘playing different games’, and being spoilt.  If he had ever thought to work it out, he might have been surprised to find that the number of hours spent with his grandfather was really quite small.  Just the same the bond was there, and they loved each other in the same way that most grandparents and most grandchildren love each other.
        Something in the milieu of the car and its occupants started to affect him; he sensed the mourning around him, and was enveloped by a sadness he could not fully understand.  It was real just the same, and suddenly he started to sob.  He had been sitting quietly on the knees of the soft lady, but now, without warning he was gently pulled close to her, soft and warm, her comforting arms around him as he wept;  her own tears matching his.  Steven could not know that she too was remembering her childhood, when, just like he, she had visited, and played with her grandfather, and just like he, had grown to love him.
        When the journey home was over, and they all got out of the car, the soft lady took out her handkerchief, and gently dabbed Steven’s eyes and cheeks.  They had both stopped crying now, and she was smiling at him.  
        “Sometimes it’s alright to cry.” she said softly, so no one else would hear, and then she said one of those grown up things that Steven found hard to understand.  “Don’t remember today;” as she gave his cheeks one last little dab,  “remember yesterday.”
        Steven was glad he had not been with his mother or father when he had cried.  Except in the little church he had not seen any tears from them, or any signs of being upset for that matter, so he thought that crying must by sissy.  
      Not so Marjorie. If there was any crying to be done, she was first in the queue, though it was not insincere.  It was simply that if she was sad, she cried.
      “Feeling allright now?” she asked, now composed, and smiling again, “why don’t you go inside and find a game to play with?...leave the grown ups to talk”
        “You said you would tell me how you are my cousin.” Steven said, regaining his spirit, and his inquisitiveness.
        “Yes I did”, she answered brightly “Lets go and sit down somewhere.”
        “There is a bench at the end of the garden; shall we go there?”
        “OK, lead the way.”
        Steven was happy.  He had found a knew friend, and they were going to do something together.  It was like a knew game, and he was excited.
It was not a grand house by any means, a largish terrace in fact; but it did have a large garden at the back.  Neither of Steven’s parents had time, or much inclination for gardening, so it was usually somewhat overgrown.  An ideal adventure playground for a young boy and his friends.  There was just one place at the bottom which was kept neat by Stevens father.  He worked hard and long hours to support his family, and one of his few indulgences, on a warm summer evening, was to take his book, and a glass of beer to that little quiet oasis, far from the house.  
        That’s where the bench was and they got to it in double quick time, Steven almost running, and Marjorie, somewhat heavier, struggling to keep up.  She wasn’t a very big person, just comfortably plump, and being slightly short, appeared to  be plumper than she really was.  In this she had taken after her father, and did not have the tall pole like appearance common in her mothers family, as seen on display today.  All five daughters had inherited their father’s tall slim frame and a slightly beaky appearance. 
        “Ooh’, I’ll have to sit a minute, to get my breath back.”, she said as she descended, with a slight but well padded drop, onto the bench, “I can’t keep up with you like that.”  Struggling to breath, she said  “I might be your cousin, but I’m still a lot older than you.”
        That was exactly it.  Steven had not worked it out in a mathematical way, it just seemed to him that he should not have a cousin that looked like an Auntie.
        “Are you ready?” she said at last “Then I will try to explain”
        “Your Grandfather and Grandmother had five children, and they were all girls, and when they grew up they had children too” She paused a moment, still slightly out of breath.
       “My mother is called Violet, but everyone calls her Vi...”
Steven mentally ducked at this and laughed, remembering how he thought he was being attacked by her.
        Marjorie continued, though somewhat perplexed by Steven’s barely controlled, temporary hysterics.  “...and I was her first child.”
        She paused again, this time waiting for Steven to overcome his giggle.
       “When I was born your mum was only five, and she didn’t get married until she was twenty two and then you were born a year later. By that time I was grown up; nearly twenty.”
        Apart from that one little lapse, he had been paying attention, and though it was a big bite to start with, Steven thought he  had followed it so far.
        “And now you are nearly eight eight and I am...well I’ll let you work it out!.”
        Steven groaned inwardly. Just when it was going so well, something else he didn’t understand.  But he was not put off.
        “What about the children, are they my cousins?”
        “Yes of course, they all belong to your mother’s sisters.”
        “But which is which, how do you tell?”
        “Well, you have to get to know them...do you want to meet them?” 
        “Yes please” Steven answered, excited at the idea of more cousins.
        “Come on then.” Marjorie said, getting off the bench, and taking hold of Stevens hand at the same time, in part to stop him running,  “let’s see who we can find.” But she warned, “some of your cousins are grown up like me.”
        So it was, that he Steven got to meet some of his family.  They had over the years drifted apart both geographically, and in truth, emotionally.       Stevens beloved grandfather had ruled his family firmly, fearful perhaps of life’s traps ever ready to snare a growing girl.  And with five of them to watch out for he was rather more domineering than they liked, and no doubt as he would have wished.  Into this atmosphere sibling rivalry developed, and so the girls grew up feeling that instead of loving each other, they were competing.
        So as they grew up the girls developed a respect, even admiration for their father, but none could say they loved him.  He, on the other hand, frustrated by what he perceived as ungrateful coolness in his daughters, found the love he needed in his grandchildren.  And they in him.
        The first to be introduced was Stewart Wilson, who had been in the other car. His mum and dad were Auntie Meg and Uncle Ray.  He was ten. Then it was Jean Threlfall, who had been missing before, and her brother John, who he had met earlier.  Jean seemed to be about the same age as Steven, but John was fifteen.  Then they went looking for John’s other sister, twelve year old Brenda, who they found with her mother, Aunt Trudy.  
After that it was the older ones; Debbie and Sarah, and Dorothy who was on the front seat with her mother Auntie Meg in the car Steven had travelled in.  Then Walter, the ‘boy’ , now in his twenties, who was sitting with his back to him in the car. 
        “Now” Marjorie continued, as they approached a man holding the young child he had seen earlier.  The man smiled as they got nearer, and she said  “I’ve been keeping the best to the last...this is husband Stanley, and this is my little boy, Joseph...he was four two days ago.”
        It was all a bit too much for Steven to take in; he knew he would not be able to remember it all, so Marjorie promised to write it down for him.  But there were a couple of things he wanted to know now.
        “If you are my cousin, what do I have to call you?” thinking that some formality, such as in ‘Auntie’ would be required.
        “Just Marjorie” she said.
        Steven laughed behind his hand, tickled at the idea that he could call a grown up by her first name.
        “Marjorie” he said, and laughed again. “But what about Joseph?” he asked, “Is he my cousin as well?”
        “He is your second cousin” she paused, then decided it was not the time to explain things like ‘cousins once removed’  “so you will be able to call each other by your own names.”
        Steven was very pleased to have found out so much about his family.  A day that started off a sad one, had turned out to be a day of discovery.
        “I think it’s time for something to eat now, don’t you?”  said Marjorie, and they went inside the house.

        The next few days were quiet for Steven; most of the time spent in his room.  He seemed to have lost interest in everything, not even wanting to play with his friends, and as soon as he got home from school, he would make straight for the safety of his own little private world. 
        His parents were not too concerned about this; sad of course for Steven, knowing that the reality of the loss of his Grandad had finally sunk in, and that he was hurting.  But knowing too, that he would find his own way, in his own time, to come to terms with it.  They just needed to be there, to give him the support he needed, whether it be a smile or a touch, a cuddle or a squeeze.
        The only other soul to share his sanctuary during these few day, was his dog, a little mixture of breeds, taken from the dogs home about six months before.  Its name was Putch.
        His parents Brian and Philipa, had relented after a long campaign by Steven, on the promise that he would do all the walking and training of the animal.  By and large he had stuck to this bargain, and now, wisely, they insisted that he maintained his responsibility to exercise his pet.  They hoped that the dog, who was also Steven’s friend and confidant, would lead their son back from his gloom.
        It that they were right, for on the fourth morning after the funeral, Steven came down for his breakfast, his spirits renewed, and the quirky little ways that were so much part of his make up restored.  And he was hungry.
        Philipa smiled at her husband, who was just about ready to leave for work, and then she bent down to kiss her son on the cheek.
       “Welcome home” she said quietly.
        Steven, his mouth full of toast, could not answer, but in any event would not, for he did not know what she meant.
        By the end of the week, he was himself again.  He had not forgotten his Gram’pa, nor would he ever, but in some mysterious way, the pieces had been re-arranged in his mind, and everything was in place again.
        Then a curious thing happened. His mother and some of his Aunties had arranged to spend the day at their father’s house, to make a start on the heartbreaking task of selling up.  Their parents had lived in this house all their married lives; all the daughters had been born at the local hospital, and had lived all their young lives there.  They had all moved on, as marriage or careers demanded, but after the death of their mother nearly ten years ago, had all established a regular visiting pattern, which had re-awakened memories of happy times, in a happy house.
        Philipa asked Marjorie, the only one in the family who lived near enough, if Steven might spend the day with her; a plan which Steven was very happy to go along with.  This was to be the first of many outings with Marjorie, and little Joseph, and he was duly packed off, armed with some tins of dog food, some books and games in case it started to rain, and of course Putch.  It was a Saturday, so there was no school to worry about, and his father took him in the car on his way to the library, and soon they had covered the few miles to her house.
        It had been a bit drizzly first thing, but by the late morning the sky was brighter.
        “I usually take Joseph for a walk in the afternoon”  Marjorie looked at Steven enquiringly “do you feel like joining us, we might go to the park, or down to the woods?”
        “Yes please Aun...” remembering just in time “Marjorie”.
        “It will be a good chance for Putch to have a run.”  He was young and frisky, and took all the exercise that Steven could give him.
        “How did you get to call him Putch?” she asked, as she tickled the small tousled haired dog, behind the ear.
        “Because he has mostly white hair, but he has a brownish patch underneath, so I thought  U for underneath, so it’s Putch instead of Patch” He grinned, looking pleased with himself.
        “Was that your idea?” she asked smiling.
        “Dad wanted to call it Roger or something like that, but I don’t think it looks like a Roger, do you Ma...?”  He ended the question awkwardly
        Marjorie knew that her visitor was finding it difficult to recognise her as a cousin, and deliberately ignored these little slips; ‘He’ll gradually get used to the idea’, she thought.
        At twenty six she didn’t feel old, but she could understand how a boy, only just turned eight, would find it easier to think of her as an Aunt, rather than a cousin.
        “No, I think Putch is perfect, and very clever.”
        They  had something to eat, and before long the four of them were walking down the road towards the park, Steven keeping tight hold of the lead that was restraining a very frisky young terrier; a terrier who would, given the slightest chance, relish its freedom.
        Indeed freedom was in the air, for Steven felt free from the usual constraints.  At home he had an easy life, with little parental pressure - providing of course, that he behaved himself - but the influence to conform was always there.  
        Keep your room tidy!.  Do your homework!.  Don’t make too much noise!.
        It was all gentle but persistent, and while Steven was in no way oppressed, he was aware in a way that he might not fully understand, that he was living by his parents rules.
        Now he was enjoying a new freedom, with new horizons, and new friends.  
        Marjorie kept up a never ending flow of conversation as she pointed out the different kinds of trees, showed him the different size of leaves, how some were tall and thin, and some were round and fat.
        “Just like people.” she said, causing a fit of giggles.
        She talked about the flowers and the birds, and of small animals and insects.
        Steven of course knew a little about all of these things, but had never given them any special thought.  Now that his eyes had been opened, if only slightly, he was surprised at how much there was to see.
        “And there is so much more if you look for it. ” Marjorie said, pleased to see that she was getting through to her young cousin, “The more you look the more you will find.” she emphasised.
        They had planned to go on to the woods, half a mile on, but they had stopped so many times first to look at this, and then to look at that, that the time had run out, and they had to make their way home.
        “Never mind.” Marjorie said, seeing a look of disappointment appearing. “If you have enjoyed coming out with us, would you like to do it again.”
        “Yeeess!” Steven shouted, hands in the air as if he had just scored a goal.
        Marjorie took that to mean yes.
        “OK” she said, “when your dad comes for you I will tell him that you want to come and visit  me...” she raised her head a little before she finished the question  “...about...er...once a week?”
        Another cheer, not quite so loud, but this time with two pairs of hands in the air, Joseph being keen to enter into the spirit of the occasion, and Putch was excitedly adding his yaps, as if to confirm complete unanimity.
       " Just one thing," Marjorie spoke softly as she gently kissed his cheek, "Don't remember Grampa as he was when he was poorly. Remember his as you knew him best."

        "Do you mean;" Stephen paused, "like yesterday?"

        "Yesterday, and all the other yesterdays."

        So it was agreed all round, including a little later Steven’s Mum and Dad, that Steven should make regular visits. They were perfectly happy to see their boy stretch his young wings.  A new chapter was opening up in Stevens life, another page being turned.

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