I sat on the train watching a familiar, long-forgotten landscape slip by: the tall chimney of Capper Pass at Brough, which had closed the airport. I remembered the Blackburn Beverley aircraft that were made there – squat fuselage and twin tailplanes, unlike any other plane I’d seen. Then sliding up alongside the Humber. Great banks of mud at low tide, or a broad expanse of clear water when the tide was in. Past the Bridge. I recall the building of that bridge, the longest single span suspension bridge in the world when it was built. I also remembered the ferry from Hull to New Holland – old-fashioned paddle steamers – which the bridge replaced.
As we drew into the city I saw familiar places like the allotment gardens tucked in between factories and warehouses – gardens which had been there the first time I made this journey as a small boy; I saw new retail parks occupying what had been docks beside the waters of the Humber. The city centre had become very different from my boyhood memories – the docks in Hull came right into the centre of the city, which had born the brunt of wartime bombing raids. The rebuilding had been slow, and continued after I left Hull in my late teens. There was much I just didn’t recognise at all.
The sadness of the lost memories filled me, reminding me that many of my memories of Hull included the father who was no longer there. So many good things, all gone.
But you know, we can wallow in nostalgia. “It ain’t what it used to be!” I remembered a poignant Beatles song from my youth – “In my life”.
There are places I’ll remember all my life, though some have changed. Some for ever, not for better; some have gone and some remain. All these places had their moments with lovers and friends I still can recall – some are dead and some are living. In my life, I’ve loved them all.
But we live in the moment, in the ‘Now’. The reality of things past was never as rosy as the pictures we paint in our memories. The Fifties and Sixties might seem like bright memories, but they were filled with poverty for many, with horrible injustices and inequalities, with poorer health and shorter life expectancy.
We live in the ‘Now’, and there is much to be thankful for, even if we view the future with a jaundiced eye, even though we worry about our country’s political and economic future, even though we worry about our world’s ecological future. Not that we shouldn’t be concerned about those things, but we should see the half-full glass we hold, and consider how we might help to fill it a little – being active in our support of the things we consider important, but valuing and enjoying the present. Living in the ‘Now’.