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“Who knows where the time goes?” as Sandy Denny used to sing.
It seems hardly any time since my last Christmas letter in 1998, but a lot
of water has flowed under the bridge since then. Not much happens to us,
so compressing three years’ events into a single letter may make things
seem more exciting. But I start on a sombre note.
It was good to see so many of her family and friends at the funeral. The bloke who gave the tribute was a bit loquacious, but otherwise it was a fine service. The organist was put in his place when the blower was accidentally switched off in the first hymn and nobody noticed.
I won’t bore you with Emilie and Marie-Anne’s achievements, except to say that Em did well in her A-levels and is currently taking a gap year in nightlife and modelling before going to Manchester to read English and Spanish, while Marie-Anne is emulating her elder sister’s success at school. We are very proud of them both.
Gigi, Emilie, Marie-Anne and I would like to wish you all a wonderful Christmas and a very happy New Year. |
Mum’s
final illness during 1999 was very stressful for all her family. I found
myself driving over to Belper twice a week, to sit and talk with someone
who gave few signs that she knew I was there. One Thursday afternoon as I
drove, Mahler’s Resurrection symphony was playing on Radio 3 and dark
storm clouds filled the sky; when suddenly the clouds parted and a beam of
light descended on Belper. Perhaps, I thought, things will turn out
alright after all. And indeed they did, but not in the way that I had
wanted. Adieu, Mum.
Gigi
lost her father the following Spring. He had been poorly for some time,
and she had been able to visit him twice in 1999. In April 2000 we all
went over to say goodbye, and he died two weeks later. Gigi flew out just
in time for his funeral. During the flight she was talking to a first-time
visitor and recommended a helicopter trip to see the island from the air,
but said that she’d never taken a helicopter herself as she’s not too
keen on heights. On arrival at the Réunion airport none of her family
were there to meet her; instead she was led to a helicopter chartered to
take her to Saint-Leu in time for the funeral.
Our
holidays have all been to France or Réunion, surprise surprise. Apart
from our visit to Réunion in April 2000, other holidays have included
Paris, Calais, Arras, the Côte d’Azur, and numerous stays with our
long-suffering friends in Brumath near Strasbourg. Our fortnight on the
Côte d’Azur this summer included the wedding of Gigi’s cousin’s son
in Nice. Gigi and her cousin were the only family from Réunion present,
and I would like it noted for posterity that Gigi and I executed a pretty
mean Réunionnais séga on an otherwise deserted dance floor. She’s
been very good for me, that girl, et je ne regrette pas de l’avoir
épousé.
In
March this year we flew over to the Gers in south-west France, to look at
a vacant post for a GP in a small village in the back of beyond (Montréal
du Gers). It became apparent why no French GPs want the job, as the
village is so isolated. So for the time being I’m still slogging away as
a GP here in Nottingham, having just chalked up sixteen years. And twenty
years as a doctor. I went to a twenty-year reunion back in Leeds, and it
was a strange experience standing in the Old Anatomy Lecture Theatre with
the same people who had assembled there in 1975. Though more wrinkled and
maybe balder, somewhat sadder and rather wiser, "after changes upon
changes, we were more or less the same".
Since
Easter 1999 I’ve been acting Deputy Organist at St Peter’s Church in
Nottingham, trying to balance the demands of that post with family life.
In August 2000 I spent a glorious week accompanying the choir singing the
services at Chichester cathedral, while Gigi took the girls over to Paris
for a week to save them from the ravages of Anglican church music. Chacun
à son gout.
We
are pleased to see that Dad is now “stepping out” with a charming lady
of whom we Thoroughly Approve, though he didn’t ask, of course. With his
customary cussedness he found someone who lives about as far away from
Belper as it is possible to get. What is it with us Leutys and the
southern hemisphere?