Have you ever...

Felt such a deep longing for a place that it is an ache in your heart that will not go away?

This is how I feel about my homeland. Although I have traveled the world extensively, this ache will not go away, and gets deeper and more painful the older I get. There is nowhere in the world like Britain to me, it has a seductive call that lingers in me, it has it's claws in my soul and will not let go. And I do not want it to. It is where the bones of my ancestors rest.

Most days I feel a hundred years old. I was born in a place and an age that was so different than it is now. I do not understand people these days, they are alien to me.

I was born in an age and a place where we knew our neighbors. Where children could run free like the little heathens we were, from sunup to sunset. Where you could run out for fish and chips after dark and were completely safe. Where you could walk into a stranger's house and eat a cream puff and a glass of milk and not worry about it, nor did your parents. Where if you were being a little twit, anyone could lay down the discipline and when you got home and your parents heard about it, you got it again from them. You didn't sue someone if you slipped and fell on their property. You didn't get away with being an horse's arse to people. We were raised with manners, we learned how to write genuine letters to people, by hand. We said please, and thank you. We helped and respected our elders. We knew the intristic wisdom that came with age and there was not much as fun as sitting down and listening to stories told by them, tales of days gone by.

People were closer to the land then. There was a respect for it, and for what it produced. There was a village blacksmith, a butcher ( and the butcher slaughtered and cut the meat himself ), a pastry shop, corner stores. People read books, real ones. Everyone knew everyone in the village, and while there was still a fair bit of gossip, when needed people pulled together to help each other. Just about everyone believed in using herbal remedies and the power of the old ones in the land. Tales of spirits were common, and people didn't panic over them, or try to get rid of them. Families were close. We all knew the names of our relatives alive and dead. We knew our family histories and stories about our ancestors. There was a deeper understanding of death, and it was not something that was hushed up. We talked about it. We laid out our dead in our parlors and washed and clothed them ourselves. And when we buried them, everyone turned out to say goodbye.

Men went for a pint in the evening, if women went into the pubs, we sat at tables..not the bar. A lady was treated well, because men were taught that it was the right thing to do. We always dressed as well as we could when we went to see a film or visit someone. We were taught to work hard and enjoy our lives.

Yule holidays were about the family, we visited and brought gifts to people, we all spent time together. We had real trees, mistletoe and holly. We decorated and gave thanks for what we had. We had traditional meals, and everyone helped out. We played out in the snow and built snowmen, we walked through the forest. It was a time for reflection, winter. We built fires, and warmed ourselves before them. And at night when we went to bed, we listed to the wind, while burying ourselves under thick eiderdowns and couldn't wait for dawn so we could head outside again. We would sit down with the family to a big breakfast, then head out into the morning mist and sit and watch the sun burn the mist away. The air smelled clean.

People were tougher then. We lived off the land, and appreciated, truly appreciated what we had. There were no credit cards, we lived off what we made, and we paid cash for everything. There were yule accounts, with the milkman and the stores where we could make payments every week so that at the holidays, we could pick up all our goodies and have plenty, when most of the rest of the year we got by on much less.

Sound odd? I would wager to most people that would read this, it does. I wouldn't give a moment of it up for the world though. The memories I have from those days are precious to me. I miss those days, and that land. I feel like I am in the wrong time, as well as the wrong place. For now, I hope and long to return.