Good­bye old world

This England - - Post Box - Wil­liam Jesse, Vic­to­ria, Bri­tish Columbia

Some 35 years ago I mar­ried a Bri­tish lady who had im­mi­grated to the States to teach, and then on to Mon­treal, where I met her. She would travel back to the “old coun­try” at least twice a year to see her par­ents in York first, and then Som­er­set. I even­tu­ally went with her and, as I have had a life­long love of cathe­drals, cas­tles, steam trains and the RAF, I was in my glory.

Sadly, in June 2017 I lost her to can­cer and my world turned up­side down, and is still in that same state to­day. I cared for my wife un­til the end.

In one of the re­cent past is­sues I came across a poem en­ti­tled “Good­bye Old World” or some­thing sim­i­lar, and the poet could have been me. If you read be­tween the lines, which I did, it was about my in­volve­ment with my wife and my life and how the world goes on re­gard­less. It helped to keep me go­ing but I shed a lot of tears.

In the Au­gust is­sue there is an­other poem (The Tran­si­tion – page 32) which hit home as well. On first read I again shed many tears, as I do when I watch videos of “Jerusalem” be­ing sung by choirs.

I would like to go back to Eng­land one day soon, to visit the things I love, but don’t know if I will. The only fam­ily I now have are my two cats and two rab­bits, but read­ing “This Eng­land” will al­ways be a part of my Eng­land.

Please keep up the good work with the mag­a­zine.

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from UK

© PressReader. All rights reserved.