NOTES ON
1974-1978, Dad's
last pictures
http://comp.uark.edu/~dsears/photos/1974%20Eileen74%20dad
Dad
lived his last two years in severe depression.
He was in and out of mental hospitals, and he had a heart operation that
involved Mum and Bert making difficult trips to Woolwich. Late in the summer he made a sudden recovery
and was back at work. After two weeks
he suddenly collapsed, and a few days later he was dead. I think his apparent recovery, not a real
recovery, was the doctors giving up hope.
When
Dad died I was not really sad. I was
relieved. I was relieved that two years
of pain had come to an end. Pain for
Dad. Pain for those who loved him. There would be the pain of loss, especially
for Mum, but that was a different kind of pain. We would have to deal with that and time was an ally. When I returned from the funeral, comforted
by the number of railway uniforms at the service, the overwhelming impulse was
to go to the bottom of the garden.
Overlooking his railway allotment, an unfenced extension of his garden,
to the town beyond, over the river valley, the railway lines that we rode so
much as children, the town of Maidstone going about its business in the mist, I
wanted to scream, “Sidney Sears has died”. Sidney Sears who left his new bride after a month, not to return
for six years. Sidney Sears who fought
in North Africa and was left for dead on the India-Burma border. Sidney Sears who took us all over southeast
England as children and all over Britain as teenagers. Sidney Sears who came home almost every day
with his heavy railway coat pockets stuffed with newspaper clippings about
space. Sidney Sears who could not
handle his children leaving home and having to move house against his
will. Sidney Sears was dead. In bed alone with Hazel that night at 86
Buckland Road, I asked her whether my facial features bore any resemblance to
Dad’s. She said, “You have the same
nose”. I smiled, and fell asleep.
Maidstone from the allotment at the bottom of the garden at 86 Buckland Rd