In 1992, I had other concerns rather than the size of my music collection, namely children. In 1991, Geraldine had sadly suffered a miscarriage, and although prior to this, I was quite relaxed about starting a family, this event brought my thoughts into clear focus, and I then fully realised that I wanted to be a dad. It came as a real shock to both of us to lose the child, but thankfully, it didn’t take long for Geraldine to fall pregnant again, and the first scan predicted a due date of March 1992. We packed a lot into our final year of ‘freedom’, going away on six holidays / weekend breaks, seven day-trips, nine meals out, eleven visits to the cinema / theatre and twelve dances / parties. Then everything changed.
At work, things were not going well at that time with talk of a big re‑organisation (corporate-speak for redundancies) and so I was feeling a bit down and went to bed early on the 11th March. Geraldine woke me up at midnight experiencing strong pains but after the usual remedies (having a warm bath and a massage) failed to work, I drove her into Sharoe Green maternity unit at 3:30am where she was admitted later that morning. We had what felt like a long wait, but Emily Jane was born at 12:58pm on Thursday 12th March.
We had been discussing suitable names for several weeks beforehand, and I even bought a baby names book to help us to make a decision. Apart from Emily, we liked Roberta, Laura, Rebecca, Rachael and Phoebe. Rebecca was a non-starter because of our surname, and we ruled out Phoebe as being a bit too unusual, even though I had a great Aunty Phoebe. This was also a couple of years before ‘Friends’ was broadcast, so we would have been trailblazers had we chosen that name. However, as soon as I held my new daughter, I just knew she was called Emily. It was strange having this knowledge, but I had no doubt. Unknown to me then, the name had been growing in popularity since the mid 1970s and became the most popular girls name in 1992, and continued to be very fashionable until it began to decline from about 2000. The name Jane came from Geraldine’s grandmother.
When Laurence was born 21 months later, I don’t recall having the same discussion about names. We just simply named our little boy Laurence William, his second name after my dad. As it turned out, one of Gee’s best friends’ dad was called Laurie Williams, and so he was delighted at our choice of name. I only knew one person at the time called Laurence, and it was quite an uncommon name in 1993. That said, when he started at primary school, there was another Laurence in the year, whose mum was also called Geraldine! Emily was the only one in her year, but there were several Emmas. Today, Emily works in a place with three other Emilys, and they are distinguished by prefixing their name with the initial of their surname. So there is Kemily, Jemily, Wemily and Femily. The last one really dislikes her nickname, saying that it makes her sound like a ladies’ hygiene product.
Emily caused her mum quite a few anxieties in the early days. She didn’t want to feed, which is really distressing for the mum. The midwife and nurse helped with advice, but it is a terrifying feeling to be solely responsible for a tiny human. I know it’s a cliché, but babies don’t come supplied with a handbook, and until it’s happened to you, the worry of doing the wrong thing cannot be fully comprehended. Geraldine managed though, as people do, and Emily grew to be a mostly contented baby.
In the first few weeks, we continued to go out, although not quite as frequently as before. The first time, when we left Emily with her grandparents, was to see a performance of the opera Carmen at the Charter Theatre. This was the day before Emily’s christening at St Bede’s church where Gee’s brother, Andrew, and my sister, Pauline, were godparents. In May, we went away to North Wales for the weekend which was not enjoyable. The hotel kindly offered to listen for Emily on the telephone system while we had a meal, but we didn’t trust them, and so we failed to enjoy the meal at all. I remember popping up to the room between courses and after this experience, we decided that we’d sooner stay at home in future. I think many new parents go through this phase, and it quickly became second nature for us not to go out and have the bother of babysitters. We grew to enjoy our home comforts.
We had hired a holiday cottage in Bideford, North Devon in mid-June that year. We had recently bought a large family car, and this was the first time that we put it to its intended use. It was filled to the roofline with all the stuff you need when you have a young child. How people manage to go abroad with babies is beyond me. It can’t be worth it. We loved the holiday, though, and went away again in October to house-and-dog-sit for a friend in Norwich.
After borrowing one from a colleague, we bought our own video camera at huge expense (£763) in August 1993 and started to record hours of footage showing the children growing up. I would say it, but I don’t think that the resultant film is that bad. I took time to carefully edit the 8mm film and transfer it onto VHS along with a musical soundtrack, and it now serves as a great memory for the children growing up. The problem has been one of keeping ahead of the technology. I can no longer play VHS tapes, but a few years ago, I transferred them onto DVD. Now my DVD player has gone wrong, but once more, I was ahead of the game and loaded all the video onto a passport drive, which also serves to back up my computer files. I now understand that I should be storing this stuff on the cloud, but I haven’t quite got my head around this yet. I’ll get there, though: I’m not a Luddite, but sometimes, I feel I need to understand the technology before I fully trust it, and cloud storage currently remains outside of my comfort zone.
Laurence joined the three of us late on Friday 7th December 1993. I’d taken a day off work and I remember going to pick up (or order, I can’t recall which) a cake from Latham’s in Broughton. We had previously dropped off a car at Wheelton garage for it to be serviced, but later that afternoon, it was clear that our second child was on its way. After dropping off Emily with her grandparents, we headed to Sharoe Green in the early evening, and thinking that I’d be in for the long haul, I bought a 24 hour parking ticket. Four hours later, I was home again, the father of two children, since Laurence was born just before midnight. I still smart when I think about the waste of money I spent on the car park. That night, I remember being at home on my own, too excited to sleep, and it being too late to let anyone know my news. Wheelton garage sent Geraldine a lovely bouquet of flowers when we finally managed to retrieve our car after its service.
When I brought Geraldine and Laurence home a few days later, I noted that the streetlights, which had just been installed in Smithy Close, had been lit for the first time, as I thought, in Laurence’s honour. So the beautiful starlit nights we’d previously enjoyed in the village had been taken from us once and for all. I’m still not sure whether it is a good thing, but there’s little I can do about holding back progress.
Laurence contracted a cold over the coming weeks, and I have memories of being off work over Christmas spending every night pacing around the lounge comforting him. It was when 24 hour TV had just started, so at least I had something to watch as I carried out my lonely vigils. We had snow on Christmas day that year – just thought I’d mention that. On Christmas day twelve months later we were visiting my mum and Laurence walked a few paces across the room to his grandma. My mum thought this was lovely, but what she didn’t realise at the time was that these were his first ever steps! It was fabulous that his first walk was to see his grandma rather than anyone else.
Emily started with a childminder in Samlesbury when Gee returned to work part time in October 1992. Emily wasn’t too long at this childminder for various reasons, and in August 1994, we moved her Nook Barn Nursery where she attended until starting school in September 1996. Laurence also attended Nook Barn once Emily had finished, and for the first few weeks he caused us terrible anxiety. One of us would drop him off and as we were driving away, we would see him sitting in the window weeping uncontrollably. The nursery staff assured us that his distraught state only lasted a few minutes each day, but the image stayed with us for hours.
Even though we lived within the catchment area of St Bede’s school and attended church there, we enrolled both children into St Joseph’s school near Gregson Lane. We visited both schools beforehand, and we decided that St Joseph’s, being much smaller, appeared to be friendlier. The fact that it was also on the way to work for both of us was an added bonus. Geraldine and I had both attended a very small primary school, and I think that influenced our decision, perhaps as much as the snobbish thought that the district of Clayton Brook was included within St Bede’s catchment area. Clayton Brook didn’t (and still doesn’t) have a great reputation round here. St Joseph’s served our children well enough, despite the head teacher leaving soon after Emily started, and his replacement not being nearly as welcoming. The school also suffered for a short period when it was given a poor Ofsted rating which was worrying, but both children enjoyed their time there, and came away with a good primary education.
My view on schools is that as long as there is good discipline, which ensures that all the children are safe and well behaved, they will learn up to their intelligence level. I have never agreed with private education, and I don’t believe that paying for education makes children any cleverer, although I will concede that more opportunities are open to children who attend private schools. I have no regrets in sending our children to state schools, however, and I hope that they don’t have any regrets either.
Thankfully, both children have generally been very healthy, with just one broken bone when Laurence fell and broke his collarbone at Scouts. However, we did have quite a fright in 2002 when our world was turned on end for a few weeks during the summer months. Laurence caught a sickness bug at the start of the summer holidays, which he kindly shared with everyone in the house. We were all better within a couple of days, but it is now clear now that he never really recovered. He was less energetic than normal, and he complained of a sore foot, but we dosed him with anti-inflammatory tablets and simply waited for him to get better. However, when he could barely walk round Manchester after a trip to see the track cycling at the Commonwealth Games, we rang our GP and secured a 3pm appointment that day. After 10 minutes with the doctor, Laurence was bundled off to the Royal Preston Hospital and it was two weeks before he came home again, spending most of that time having doses of intravenous antibiotics four times per day to cure what was later diagnosed as osteomyelytis (a bone infection). He then spent a further six weeks on oral antibiotics.
It was a very worrying time, especially for the first few days when he was in considerable pain, and the doctors didn’t have a clear idea what was wrong. He was discharged the day before we were due to go on holiday, but we had already decided to postpone our planned trip to Cornwall.
The children developed their own interests as they grew, although we insisted that they both took swimming lessons from the age of about four or five. Once they became proficient at swimming, they gave up, neither of them showing any real interest or aptitude in the sport. Emily started classes at a local dance school when she was about six, and thoroughly enjoyed it. She danced all through her school years, only reluctantly giving up when she went to university. She frequently took part in big dance shows, performing several routines in front of audiences of up to 1,000 people. The rehearsals kept her very busy, and Gee was also kept very busy making costumes. Emily would have loved to continue further with dancing, but she wisely realised that professional dancers are unable to earn a living at it for more than a few years.
Along with other school friends, Emily joined the Brownies when she was eight, and enjoyed the meetings and going away on camp with the other girls. When she turned ten, however, rather than move up to Guides, she elected to start with Scouts, who not long earlier had voted to allow girls to join. She started with one of her school friends and they both thoroughly enjoyed the activities, even moving on to Explorer Scouts for a while after she turned fourteen.
I was keen that Laurence joined the Scout movement at the earliest chance. This was something that I felt I had missed from my own childhood and I wanted to give him every opportunity, so I enquired about him joining well before he was old enough. I was told that there was a long waiting list, and he may not be able to join at the age of six, but may have to wait for a vacancy. I was then informed that if the group had more leaders, there would almost certainly be an opportunity for Laurence to join. This was code for “if you train to be a leader, your son can jump the queue”, but was not something said openly. I took the hint and in September 1998, I began training as a Cub leader. Laurence joined Beavers a year later when he turned six although I’m not sure whether this was something he really wanted to do. Since I had given up my time to become a Cub leader, he didn’t really have much choice. He stayed with the scout movement for several years, and whilst he seemed to enjoy the camping side, he didn’t show that much interest in the rest of the activities.
For a while, three of us were all at Scouts together, and we would occasionally go away on what we called a family camp, where parents were invited. I recall one terrific camp during September 2003, when the weather forgot the date and replayed summer once more. Of course, we excluded Gee from these expeditions, since there was no suitable hotel near enough for her to stay and still take part. She cannot understand why anyone with a perfectly good house and bathroom would want to sleep in a field and share washing facilities with 200 others. When put like that, I began to wonder myself.
Laurence also joined Gregson Lane under-eights football team whilst aged just seven. He stayed with them for two seasons, before moving up with the team each year thereafter. He was selected to play in defence and this is where he stayed for many years supporting a team who, on a good day, could perhaps be described as average. Laurence seemed to be quite good at the game, and turned up to all the training sessions and matches without needing any persuasion, so I believed that he was enjoying it. It turned out, he wasn’t, but he was perhaps twelve before this became clear. I have absolutely no interest in football, and I now realise that this has rubbed off on Laurence, although I didn’t know at the time. (The game itself is OK, but what I can’t understand is the fans. What motivates grown men to pay good money to watch 22 spoilt teenage millionaires kick a ball round a field?)
Following an audition in 2002, Emily was selected to sing and dance in the local pantomime. This production is different to most in that rehearsals begin in October and the performance is during the February half-term holiday. Emily loves performing, and enjoyed her time on the production. The following year, she attended another audition, and Laurence also went along with a few of his mates, and they both got parts in Peter Pan. In winter 2003/04, there was a problem since Laurence’s panto rehearsals on Sunday often clashed with football matches, but he elected to attend the panto, fitting in football whenever he could. It was great that the entire Gregson Lane under-ten football team turned up to watch the matinee performance.
A change of pantomime director in subsequent years meant that there was less dancing and more acting, and since Emily didn’t get a significant part in the next production, both she and Laurence dropped out. Soon after this, Laurence joined Brindle Band as a cornet player, and he really took to this. I think he enjoyed the fact that the bandsmen treated him like an adult, and made no concession to his lack of years. Unlike an orchestra, there is nothing snobbish about a brass band: the people are lovely, down-to-earth characters who have a huge talent and just enjoy making great music. Laurence did spend some time with an orchestra, but it wasn’t as much fun, with the members being much older, more serious and not nearly as friendly.
Emily elected to study A-level subjects based (correctly, in my opinion) on the subjects she most enjoyed. Before long, a conversation with a careers adviser pointed her in the direction of occupational therapy, and from thereon she never looked back, being totally focused on this career. University followed, where she achieved a BSc (Hons) in Occupational Therapy at Sheffield Hallam, making good use of the three compulsory work placements which gave her a good understanding of the breadth of her career choice. She so enjoyed her first placement in a learning disability day centre that she returned there in her first permanent job after graduating.
Her second placement was very different when she was placed at Rampton high security hospital as a trainee occupational therapist. It was only a 10-week placement, and at the time she would have loved to have made this her permanent job. She worked in the DSPD (Dangerous and Severe Personality Disorder) ward and she regularly entertained us with some fascinating (if appalling) details of the patients she worked with. These are stories that I cannot repeat! Throughout university, her work ethic was excellent, and she worked regular night shifts behind the bar at Wetherspoons to earn extra cash. She is now settled as an occupational therapist at a charity in south Manchester supporting children and young adults with complex learning disabilities and additional communication needs. She learned sign language in the first year, and is now studying for an MSc to boost her career opportunities.
After losing his way a little in the final couple of years at Brownedge St Mary’s, Laurence went on to take a BTec qualification in Business Studies at Runshaw College. He found the course easy, and perhaps because of this, he didn’t put in the effort that the college expected, and we had several telephone calls from tutors asking us to encourage him to focus and study harder. Despite his worryingly laid-back approach to further education, he still left with a triple distinction. He showed no interest in attending university (although I still forced him to apply for several courses), and after his performance at college, this was certainly not the right option for him at that time. He began to apply for apprenticeships and gained interviews at BAE Systems (applying for a position on the scheme that I currently manage) and also for a trainee management post at Waitrose. He was unsuccessful in both these endeavours.
In May of 2012, he casually announced that he’d found himself a position as an apprentice at a digital media company working on search engine optimisation. Regrettably, this company went bankrupt after a year, and after a very short period of unemployment, he continued with his apprenticeship working for Direct 365, the marketing arm of PHS plc. I can’t say that I know what he does, but his email signature shows him being a marketing executive. I know that he goes out every morning, and returns in the evening and gets a pay packet each month, so do I really need to know?
I feel incredibly proud that both of our children have become magnificent adults with an excellent outlook on life. Being a parent is one long process of letting go, and I’m thrilled that both Emily and Laurence have made the difficult transition from being dependents to becoming adults with their own views and opinions.
I’m not a big fan of poetry, but one of my favourite works is by Kahlil Gibran who was a Lebanese-American writer born in 1883. I regularly read ‘On children’ from his masterpiece ‘The Prophet’ and find inspiration each time. Here is an extract:
“Your children are not your children. They are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself. They come through you but not from you, and though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.” As I write this, I feel that my children have now outgrown me, and no longer need my wise (!) words. They may not feel this, and indeed, often do ask for advice, but more frequently, the tables are turned and I am asking for their opinions. This is the correct order of things, and I feel immensely proud and lucky that I have had a part in bringing such terrific people into the world.