Grace Muir Robinson and Alexander Walker Hamilton were married on 3rd March, 1961. It seems to have been a rum old do with my Mums family boycotting it and only my Dads sister turning up from his side.
The Robinsons regarded her wedding as a betrayal as it was her job to stay home and look after her father, brother and nephew after her mother died. She was the youngest, unmarried and still at home. But she wisnae having that so she got herself pregnant and married my Dad. That bairn didnae take and I turned up, unexpectedly, four years later.
At the time of her wedding she’d had the first two of her three official breakdowns, something that also ran in the family, but she was still holding doon a good job at Ferrantis where she was one of the very few female foremen. But after number three she drifted into waitressing at the likes of the Honeydew, Binns and the Marble Arch.
The parallels between my mothers life and mine is a constant source of aggravation. We never got on. After all, she made it clear from an early age that she didnae like me and I was an inconvenience. Just as well she was over 7 months gone before she knew she was pregnant with me or she might have overcome both the law and her Catholicism.
Her wedding caused major family estrangements. As did mine. And I’ve got her side of the family to thank for both my mental health issues and alcoholism. We were both widowed aged 51. So when I look at pictures of my Mum & Dad I feel a sense of loss. Not for them. I barely knew them. But I feel loss for what should have and could have been. The family I never had and never will have.
The pictures below show my Mum and dad in their prime. Aka before me;
Left column – top to bottom;
Mum & Dad
Mum & Dad on the right
Dad, 2nd left, with championship winning darts team
Right column shows my Mum on the left