Last Saturday I went to Chester for the first time since my Mum’s funeral. In the build up to this trip I was apprehensive and anxious about how I would react when I was there. The emotions I have been experiencing about my home town over the past year have been so entwined with the loss of Mum that it was almost impossible to differentiate. Every time I see a picture of Chester I think of Mum.
For over 30 years (all of my adult life) visiting Chester has meant visiting Mum, staying in my childhood house, sleeping in my bedroom, eating in our kitchen and sitting with Mum in our front room. This visit would be the second time I had visited with Mum gone. The first time was the day we all said goodbye to her, and I travelled and was with Lisa and the boys throughout. This time was over a year later and solo.
As mentioned the week before my trip was full of anxiety and apprehension. My work week was being and challenging and I found it incredibly difficult to concentrate and stay focused on my work. I was worried that the nearer I got to Chester on the train, the more emotional I would become. I really did not relish being an emotional wreck on a busy train. I was going to Chester to meet up with some old school friends for a meal and a few drinks. I desperately did not want to dominate the evening struggling with my emotions. I was also due to meet Louise (my Sister) as soon as I arrived in Chester. I had visions of myself breaking down in the street and creating a scene. Chester had become such a symbol of my grief that it was on the verge pushing my memory of Mum to the side. I didn’t know how to manage this, so I decided (eventually) to put in practice what I have learned over the years and written about in blogs over the past 4 years. I just allowed these worries and emotions to be. I made no attempt to address them or rationalise them. All I could do is visit Chester spend time with people that are important to me, experience the emotions that I experience and understand what is driving those emotions. I decided to hold it all quite lightly. If I am completely honest I didn’t start doing this until Friday night. By the time I got on the train at Hull Station I was quite relaxed. Quite frankly it was a good job I was feeling zen like as the journey was horrendous with delays and overcrowded trains (apparently this is now normal on our rail network, but that is a story for another blog, probably by another blogger).
I arrived in Chester 30 minutes late, still feeling quite relaxed. I had kept Louise informed of the delays, so we arrived on City Road (the road from Chester Station) and where the venue was where we were due to meet) at the same time. I spotted her paying for her parking and I could feel my emotions starting to bubble. I gave her a hug just about managing to keep myself composed. We arrived at the Corner House Bar and it was packed. A party of about 16 young men dressed as Jockey’s had just arrived, clearly on a stag do. We contemplated going somewhere else, but decided to stay. Louise found a table and I stood at the bar waiting to be served. After some time waiting to be served behind a bunch of pissed up Jockeys I fought my way to our table. And that was it, my composure was lost, for the next 2 hours we were emotional wrecks. In hindsight it was the perfect place to have an emotional conversation as it was so busy, that everyone was absorbed in themselves to notice a middle aged brother and sister crying in the corner. It was lovely to spend some time with Louise and catch up on each others lives and families. We don’t talk as much as we should, but with busy lives and raw grief it is hard and sometimes too painful to pick up the phone.
After saying goodbye to Louise I booked in at the Hotel (conveniently situated on City Road). I had a shower and got changed and went to the pub where we were meeting. I got there really early, as I could not think of anything else to do. I messaged the group to say I was there, and bought myself a pint and waited. I wasn’t waiting long before my old friend Mike arrived. I hadn’t seen him for 30 years! It was wonderful to see him, it was as if we had never been apart. I found it so easy to talk to him, and we naturally fell into conversation about our lives now. Then Adam and Rich arrived, we had another drink and went to the restaurant. I needn’t have worried about getting emotional, the only leakage from my eyes was from laughing so much. The food was OK, the company was outstanding, it was a fantastic night.
The next day I decided to have a walk around the City Centre to acquaint myself with my hometown. I was walked along the canal in to the City Centre it felt incredibly familiar, but at the same time there was no emotional attachment. It didn’t feel like home, it was just a place I know well. I felt quite sad a flat as I walked along the streets in the rain. Chester isn’t my home, it hasn’t been my home for 34 years. In fact it was only my home for 8 years. I know this sounds really twee and hackneyed but home really is where you feel loved and safe, somewhere, where you belong. For 51 years of my life that was wherever my Mum was. More recently that has grown to my own family of Lisa, Ben and Jack. The physical Chester has no place in my heart, the notion of Chester as being where Mum and Dad are from and where our wider family live holds a bigger place in my heart. I was going to write that Chester will always hold fond memories for me, but that is not true. I could not leave Chester quick enough when I was 18, at that time it was full of difficult memories. My fond memories of Chester come from when I visited it as a young child and visiting it as a parent with my young children. Chester is a place I am happy to admire from a distance. I love to look at pictures of Chester, as they make me smile and remind me of my beautiful Mum.
My visit to Chester was full of emotion, some of it painful, but most of it joyful. It has also allowed me to disentangle my emotions about the place and the emotions I have about Mum. Chester is the place where my Mum lived, the love I feel when I see a picture of Chester is not for the place but for the one time inhabitant. Being in Chester does not make me feel any closer to her, in fact it made me feel the opposite. I prefer to keep the memory of Chester as she knew it. Chester the place and the Chester in my mind are very different, the place has no more attachment to Mum, and never will. The Chester in my mind will always be part of Mum. It took this visit to see the difference, now I can visit Chester in the future without worrying about how I will react.
Connected Coaching 