Whatshot

2025
2024
June
April
2023
March
2022
2021
2020
March
February
2019
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
2018
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
2017
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2016
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2015
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2014
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2013
December
November
October
September
August
July
June
May
April
March
February
January
2012
December
November
October
September
August
July

Places lost and found

Places lost and found

Author: Jo Rushby
Date: 2023-10-26

Whatdoes it mean to visit the town of your childhood years? As a teenager, eventsseem to just seamlessly move from one thing to another. But as the years pileup, one gets more reflective.

Andso, September found me in Nottingham. My mother was in hospital, and I waskeeping house. I went up to the little room I once called mine. I caught areflection in the window. The rain had created creases and then slowly fell. Inbetween I could see myself. Eight going on ten. What was I reading then? Was Istill paging through Enid Blyton? Or had I graduated already to George Eliot?

I see these locks in silvery slips,

This drooping gait, this altered size:

But Spring-tide blossoms on thy lips,

And tears take sunshine from thine eyes!

Life is but thought: so think I will

That Youth and I are house-matesstill. Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Inthe attic, I found my books in Russian. How will I ever part with them? To giveChekhov away is to give a chunk of my life. The master of the short story thatmade you think long into the night.

Iwalk around the town with my nephews, Conor and Niall. My favourite pub, TheBell. First landlord William Clark, 1798-1856. I never knew he founded TrentBridge Cricket Ground.

Mynephews take photos with the statue of Brian Clough. How Cloughie changed ourlives, taking a small-town team to the highest honours Europe and the PremierLeague could offer.

Whydid I leave this city? What roads I have travelled? How many countries I havepaused only to move on. But home still tugs at the heart. Everywhere I look isa part of me.

Didmy mother miss me? Should I have returned more often? Can I make up for losttime as Proust would have it?

I am now back in Durban. It is my homenow. My love. Parting is such sweet sorrow.

Mymother has literally grown roots in her back garden in Nottingham. She, unlikeme, stayed in one place for a lifetime. But I know she has accompanied me inall my journeys. No matter how far you travel, there are bonds that willstretch and strain, but they will always endure. Between mother and daughter.