Woke after a surprisingly good nights sleep in the twin room of the souped up Transport cafe B&B. Both mother and son slept soundly, though i had to manoeuvre myself subtly in the morning to hide 'morning glory'
I'm still getting over last night. Mind blowing. As amazing as Grace Jones' bits. Amazing Grace.
It was the Salad Bar with Doritoes, No veg so extra chips, everything fried in breadcrumbs, desert menu with pictures & massive portions that got me. Is it any wonder there is an obesity problem in Llanelli? Doritoes in the salad bar is right up there with my Uncle Ken going on a health drive by 'cutting out salt from my chips'. I don't make this up.
I hope I'm not being a snob as i love it all. It's me. I mean it's got more character, humanity and humour than The Ivy or other poncey places. Fact.
Our room was actually tastefully furnished, although it had the the staple B&B concertina toilet door. Making you feel you're in an airplane. You also had to pull a chord in the ceiling to work the shower and with the heating on it had the vague smell of an old people's home about it.
No matter, Barry the governor fussed over us at breakfast. Knocking up scrambled egg on toast. I asked for an omelet but he gave me the kind of puzzled look a dog gives when it sees itself in the mirror. He just couldn't compute. His mind was set to fried, boiled or scrambled. I think an Omelet was just a step too far. I settled for scrambled just like his mind. It was disappointing though not to see the salad bar open. I was craving Doritoes.
My Mum is very sweet and lovely. Always positive. She did come up with an ultra welsh line as we drove away. She said. 'Well the room was lovely & it was a nice breakfast. (trying to make it sound OK) CHEAP BREAD MIND.' Classic. (To be fair It was Aldi thin sliced bread at 19p a loaf though. Fair play to Barry it wasn't coated in breadcrumbs and fried)
We drove to the lovely Rebecca's in Gorseinen for her to do our hair. Top girl and very admirable. Like her alot. We passed a classic Welsh spa on the way which actually came up on the Ipad Google Maps as a landmark. The Relaxation Centre. We were expecting a grand centre like a church or big treatment spa with floatation tanks, gardens, zen. Here it was;
Quality huh. The Welsh Spa retreat (and B&B with concertina toilet door) - Certainly would be an experience going there. Not sure it would be relaxing though.
Then it was to Aunt Gwynies for an hour and half of 'nonversation'. Catching up on all the Dafen gossip. Basically lots of people have died, some have got Alzheimer's and the vicar is a bachelor (mmmm, i think there's more to that one) - It was so riveting that i fell asleep. I think that chat is for Welsh women. Us welsh blokes just nod and then sleep on the floral sofa underneath the beautiful ornate display - isn't there one in every Auntie's house?
After which it was to lunch. We passed a cafe, which after a moments thought, decided not to dine in. It's very popular locally to Dafen apparently, very Welsh, but we decided it wasn't for us on this occassion.
Basically it's a cafe in a static caravan. Pretty much sums Llanelli up for me. I Can't add to it. The picture says it all i think. Bet they do crisps in their salads.
Instead we went to the Retail park & had take away sandwiches from M&S. This is the point i truly entered into the world of middle age. I bought 2 cardigans. Yes i did. Really. Sensible haircut in the morning and cardigans in the afternoon. I draw the line at fur lined slippers but I'm on a slippery slope. Worrying.
We both commented how odd it was that we didn't have a base. A home in Llanelli. I mean we've always had Brymoor Road. Nan was always the focus for the visit and you always had that as a base. Now it is empty we felt as if we were mooching around. An odd feeling.
It was time to go to Brymoor Road to clear out the final bits. We waited on Mum's partner (hate using that term but boyfriend at 65 sounds weird) to arrive with the van, then we started loading up all the items saved to take away and sell or things to put in the tip. Finally we packed and the house was left totally empty.
That's when it really hit Mum. She was born there. She had devoted so much of her life to caring for Nan. Nan was so house proud and her home was everything to her. To see it empty was quite harsh. Very final. My Mum was deeply upset and quite right too. I wasn't tearful bit i felt emotional and numb. My job was to be a support. To be a rock.
This was the last time i would step foot in it. A part of all our lives is over. It's an end of an era. As i said it's almost been the spiritual centre piece of our lives and now it is over. The comforting thing is that i feel her presence. She is still here in spirit. You can almost hear her humming up the stairs. Never sitting down. Cleaning in her housecoat. Pulling a mint humbug out of the drawer or cooking Chops for lunch.
There are so many memories. They are in the important place. The heart. Not the bricks and mortar but tucked deep into our heart and soul.
I said some prayers. Marking the occasion and talked to her. I asked her if she was OK, that we were all fine down here, that there was a lot of love and that i will take care of Mum. I also asked her if she could wangle it so that i can make a success of writing & performing and that's too much to do, to sort us out with the triple roll over tonight. I know this isn't the done thing but i thought i'd give it a shot.
My Mum had hoovered the house, leaving it spotless (Much to my irritation as it will be sold in a week so whats the point? But i figured nan was proud how spotless it was, Mum is a world class cleaner so it's pretty fitting. Let people be Nick. Acceptance)
I then shut the door. Stepped back. Kissed my Mum who was deeply upset and off we drove up Brymoor Road. No nan waving on the doorstep until we were out of view. No bags crammed full of sausages and apples and kit kats she's palmed off on you, no return in a months time or plans for Christmas. An end of an era. 14 Brymoor Road. Sold. Gone. But never in our hearts. It will always be 'home'.
Nicholas Edward Evans
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