Memoir

Up in Shincliffe last weekend, I finished reading Richard Hines's second book which is also a memoir. It is titled, "The Place That Knows Me".

Three years ago, Richard and his wife Jackie reached a critical point in their lives which might have been framed by the following question: Should we stay in South Yorkshire close to our roots or should we move two hundred and thirty miles down to Brighton in Sussex?

The reason that this quandary had arisen was that both of their grown up children had settled in Brighton and their daughter had given birth to their only grandchild down there. Should they stay or should they go?

Richard  reflects upon what I have recently referred to as "the land of your heart".  He and Jackie grew up in the mining village of Hoyland Common six miles north of Sheffield and then in 1981 they moved into the city itself where they raised their kids. Their son and daughter were several years ahead of my children but they went to the same primary school and the same secondary school.

He remembers his childhood, meeting Jackie and of course all the business with kestrels. His brother Barry became pretty famous but  remained true to his background and never put on airs and graces. When I spoke with Richard, he admitted that Barry had always been a good brother to him and possessed a naturally "modest" character. 

The middle chapter - in which Richard describes Barry's decline through forgetfulness to memory loss to Alzheimer's and death in a care home is very moving. I read it in my car after exploring the slopes below Stanage Edge in search of abandoned millstones. Here's a small taste:

Over the months and years it became apparent that Barry's forgetfulness was more serious than what most of us experience as we get older; he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Once when I took him on a walk he was troubled by an imaginary financial problem and kept repeating he'd talk to Mother about it. Then, holding out his hands, he mimed  pushing a document under a screen, saying he needed to go to the bank. When I first visited him at his care home he was in a corridor examining imaginary objects on a blank wall. When he saw me, he walked forwards smiling and said: "Richard, I'm so glad you've come." Eventually though, he no longer recognised me and would chat about his brother 'Our Richard'.

There is great affection, warmly remembered detail and humour in "The Place That Knows Me". In the end, Richard and Jackie decided to stay put in Sheffield even though they had taken out a rental lease on a  flat in Brighton - very close to their daughter's home.  Instincts told them that they would never be able to settle in Brighton. They would always be restless, pining for their homeland here in South Yorkshire.

I will be visiting Richard for the second time tomorrow and taking him a special gift from Durham Cathedral.