I’ve been going through some photographs from my Mum’s house recently and came across these ones of my brother Derek that I’ve never seen before.
Derek was born in 1965 and had Downs Syndrome and related health complications. He only lived for 20 months, so these photographs are really precious.
My Mum, Bee Adams, passed away on Sunday after a short stay in hospital, and her funeral is tomorrow.
Olive Beatrice (Bee) Thompson was born in Larne in 1933, youngest of five children of Mary and William Thompson. They moved to Markethill (?late 1930s/early 1940s) where William was a police sergeant at Markethill RUC station. Bee always remembered her father sounding the air raid siren on top of the police station, and how Gosford was used to house German prisoners and American GIs.
Bee finished her schooling in Ballyclare, and enrolled as a trainee teacher in Stranmillis College. She met John Adams there, and they married in July 1958 and moved to Hamilton’s Bawn. She took up a teaching post at Salter’s Grange Primary School where John also worked. Bee spent most of her teaching life in Salter’s Grange, and saw several generations of children through their primary education. She retired in 1985 after approximately 30 years.
She had four sons. Unfortunately Derek (born 1964) had Downs Syndrome and sadly died at 18 months. This was a body-blow to Bee and John, a deep sadness that she never lost.
The Troubles also dominated Bee’s life, as John was a member of the Ulster Defence Regiment in a volatile part of Northern Ireland. Although many friends and colleagues were killed, the UDR also offered new horizons and opportunities, and the chance to meet many people from outside Northern Ireland. It is difficult to imagine the stress of those years, particularly for Bee who was affected by the uncertainty of waiting, wondering and worrying.
Unfortunately John died suddenly in 1997. Bee became ill in April 2004 and spent several months in hospital and Roxborough House, Moy. With the help of Premier Care, and particularly her carers Jennifer and Caroline, she was able to continue to live independently at home for over four years.
I’ve just planted three rows of potatoes in my Mum’s garden.
These are the old varieties I remember my Dad growing:
I’m looking forward to seeing how they grow with minimal interference!
Despite rumours that he was no longer the owner of this country pub/restaurant, his moniker still appears on the gable wall. So this is more properly known as Marco Pierre White’s Yew Tree Inn.
We went here last year on Lisa and Gav’s joint birthday, and repeated the party this year. Once again, the food was great, the service warm, friendly and efficient, and the company brilliant.
Potted shrimp with melba toast (could have been improved by warming the potted shrimp, but maybe that’s not the idea?)
Asparagus with vinaigrette dressingRoast partridge with all the trimmings (chipolatas, game chips, bacon, brussels sprouts, chestnuts, bread sauce, breadcrumbs, cooking juices)
Steak with snail sauce and chips
Smoked haddock with crushed potatoes, poached egg and mustard sauceUpside-down apple tart with cream
Rice pudding with red fruit compote
Creme brulee
Despite a heavily French wine list, the antipodean waitress recommended a nice and good value Aussie shiraz when I asked for a recommendation of “something like a New World shiraz”).
My Dad, John Adams, died ten years ago today, on 30 September 2007. As my niece Riona says, he died “of smoking” at the age of 64.
He lived a full and interesting life, as a husband and father, school teacher, soldier, gardener and euphonium player, and lived through some of the most dangerous times in recent Northern Irish history.
But as a person, I still miss him. There are many conversations over the past ten years I would have wished to have had with him. About a wide range of subjects including gardening, music, politics, history and business. And of course he would have very much enjoyed seeing his granddaughters (my nieces) growing up.
