Wind in the Willows

“Happy 7^th birthday, darling.” Mum and dad sang happy birthday. I joined in. There was a big cake in the middle of the table with 7 candles on it. I had to blow out the candles, which I managed at the second attempt. Then they handed over my present. It didn’t look like a football. It looked like a book. I ripped off the paper and it was a book. “The Wind in the Willows” by Kenneth Grahame. At the time I was a bit disappointed but I grew to love the book. I had been enjoying the TV series so my parents thought that I would enjoy reading the actual book. I loved the characters. I loved the sense of companionship and friendship. It was one of the books that inspired my love of reading. It was a treasured possession and they had inscribed it with the words “Happy seventh birthday with love from mummy and daddy”. I’m not sure what happened to it. I think I must have given it to a charity shop but I can’t remember when. I don’t think I would have kept a football for so long even if they had given me a football.

“Happy 21^st.” Mum and dad sang happy birthday. There were balloons and a cake. My parents had bought me a watch. I put it on and thanked them but secretly I was a bit disappointed. I had heard of friends at university who had been given a car for a 21^st present or a skiing holiday so a watch didn’t seem like much even though it was a nice watch. We had sandwiches to eat. A typical family birthday party. Not very exciting but at least it was better than my 18^th which had been a total disaster. For my 21^st I was home from university for the Easter holidays. Being 21 was overshadowed by the fact that I was starting to think about which jobs to apply for. Should I try for the civil service? Or be more ambitious and try for something less risky? The party for my birthday should have been a time to celebrate but it felt like I was at a crossroads, a crossroads that would determine the rest of my life.

“Happy 50^th.” The assembled group of friends sang happy birthday. I wished my parents were still alive and wondered what they would have thought about how my life had turned out. I had spent almost 30 years working in the civil service. It was hard to believe that I was now 50. I didn’t feel 50. The prospect of retiring in 10 years filled me with dread. I felt that I had so much still to achieve. My attempts at getting promotion had been mixed. I was still trying to climb the ladder at work but I knew that I was competing with people in their 20s and 30s and that experience counted for very little compared to energy and enthusiasm.

“Happy 70^th.” The carer had brought me a small cake with a few candles on it. Of course to have 70 would have been too much. It might have burnt down the nursing home. She started to sing happy birthday but none of the other residents joined in. I could have smiled politely and wheeled my wheelchair back to my own little room for a bit of privacy but I decided to stay in the lounge as I knew Pointless was starting in ten minutes. I would be able to enjoy my favourite programme while munching a nice big slice of cake even though it was bad for my diabetes. So I took a really big mouthful and almost threw up. “You can eat as much as you like,” said the carer, “I made it without any sugar as I know you are diabetic.” I smiled weakly and tried to swallow the cake as best I could. Then she gave me a present. It was a book. I just about managed to rip off the paper. It was a copy of the “Wind in the Willows”. “Hope you like it,” she smiled. “I found it in a charity shop and thought it might be your sort of thing.” The book looked slightly familiar. I opened it up and found written inside the front cover the words “Happy seventh birthday with love from mummy and daddy”.

Extract from funeral oration delivered by his nephew at the funeral:

As we all gather together to celebrate the life of my dear uncle I am sure that we all have very different memories of him and of how much he meant to us. I will always remember him enjoying cake at family birthday parties although sadly that probably contributed to the diabetes that caused many of his health problems and led to his sad passing. One of his many other pleasures was watching the TV quiz Pointless and I know he spent many happy hours in the nursing home enjoying his favourite TV show. I know that a couple of his colleagues from the civil service are here today and they will remind us of his many years of service in the civil service and the fact that he was a popular and well-respected colleague. After his passing I was sorting through Uncle’s possessions and I found a book, which I suppose must have been one of his favourites. It is “Wind in the Willows” by Kenneth Grahame. And I would like to finish by reading a short passage from that book: “Sometimes, in the course of long summer evenings, the friends would take a stroll together in the Wild Wood, now successfully tamed so far as they were concerned; and it was pleasing to see how respectfully they were greeted by the inhabitants, and how the mother-weasels would bring their young ones to the mouths of their holes, and say, pointing, “Look, baby! There goes the great Mr.Toad!””

I know my uncle always took a great delight in the natural world and always valued friendship. Wherever he is now, I hope very much he can feel the wind in the willows.