Yesterday started out pretty crap. We’ve had three days running of just two hours sleep and yesterday Steven woke up in a meltdown and ended up hurting me. I was so tired, I could barely string a coherent thought together. So, I decided to escape. I was due a respite night, so decided to book myself into an airport hotel. I booked the Holiday Inn.
When I arrived, it was quite a shock. It was the place Julie and I stayed 30 odd years ago on our wedding night. Back then it was a Trust House Forte hotel – that’s why I didn’t realize it was the same place.
A few weeks back at Julie’s funeral I told a story about the hotel. We went back for our anniversary in 1990. Julie arranged it as a surprise and wouldn’t tell me where we were going. We were up in London during the day having IVF treatment and she led me off to Victoria to get the coach back. She was so excited but I was so ungrateful. It was the night of the world cup semi final and I didn’t want to miss the match. She’d thought of that and booked a table in the restaurant for after the match finished. What she hasn’t taken into account was the penalty shoot out (Chris Waddle, Stuart Pearce), so we got down to the restaurant as they were clearing away. I think we ended up with ham sandwiches in our room.
Thirty years on the place is completely different. Even if we’d carved our names on the wall, the walls have been knocked down and rebuilt many times. No ghosts in the building, just in my head and my heart.
From → Social Care