...This Is My Life...The First Fifty Years...
1957 - 2007
1957
I'm the eldest of six children, born to Roberta (known as Bobbie) & Dennis Betts and I was born on 5 April 1957 in the kitchen of my nanna's council house in Hythe, Kent - mum always said that she pushed a bit harder when I was being born because dad would have a whole year's income tax refunded if I was born before midnight! I don't know what I weighed or at what time I was born, this sort of thing wasn't important to my mum and when I was older and asked her these sort of questions, she'd just shrug her shoulders and say she didn't remember and why was it important. This surprises me, as it took five years for her to conceive and have me and then she just didn't take note of these things!
But then again mum was a bit different, I suppose. She didn't have a brilliant education, was pretty out spoken (but not as much as dad) & was very naive - she was born in Belgium on 18 November 1930 and came to UK when she was around ten years old with nanna - she'd already lost a brother (to the dreaded TB) & her father in the war. Nanna had an affair with her English lodger (James Cloake - we called him Papa Jim) and became pregnant with mum's half brother Jimmy Albert Cloake - this was just so hypercritical - nanna (Roman Catholic) lived and breathe 'god' and was outraged at the youth of today during the 60's/70's - free love and all that - and then many years later mum told me that she's fallen pregnant and HAD to marry Papa Jim. I was so angry over this and the way she'd treated me because I'd moved in and was 'living in sin' with my then fiance Bob Smith (story for later) during 1977. I never forgave her for that and never spoke to her again - even when she came to my wedding to Dave in 1980 - I never spoke to her - but she still managed to have me in tears by the end of the day!!
1960
My childhood was pretty uneventful - I played & argued almost exclusively with my siblings and I never doubted for a second that mum and dad loved us & each other. Sure there were plenty of arguments between mum and dad (dad is a red-head), mostly about money or lack of it, but they never hit or threw things each other! We lived in a 3 bed semi in Dymchurch, Kent - two minutes walk from the English Channel, but I can count on one hand the amount of times that we went there either as a family or on my own - the sea has never held anything for me.
Dad had taken redundancy from the army in 1959, after serving 14 years and loving every minute of it - he is now 80 but still talks about his army days with gusto - he's claim to fame is that in all that time he never fired his gun in anger. He's very proud of the fact that he was the first, in his family and mum's, to buy his own house and he lived there until 1985, when he decided to sell it and start again after mum died in 1980 (from heart disease - she was only 49).
During my childhood my most vivid memories of mum are of coming home from school and always finding her on the sofa, half asleep. We were told that she suffered from nerves and she was always popping pills (now, I know that this was mainly Valium) & seeing the doctor. She liked to drink sherry and I remember her drinking this almost every day, but I never saw her drunk, not even at Christmas which was always a huge event in our house - she had six children (4 boys & 2 girls) in 10 years (too many!) and was guilt ridden with using contraception after Mark, my youngest brother was born - she was a strict Catholic and lived in fear that she was committing a mortal sin & would spent her eternity in Purgatory. I remember, many years later her talking to me about it and saying that she could only live with it because the priest had said that because dad was Church of England (not RC) that God would not judge her too severely, even though she would still have to answer to him when the time came.
I also remember her going on the bus, we lived about 5 miles to the nearest town, every Tuesday & Friday to do the family shop and struggling home with all the bags. It's strange looking back that even though we had a family car (she never learnt to drive - thought she wasn't capable) dad never took her shopping except during the last year or so of her life when we were told that she had a major heart problem but that it had been left too long and there wasn't anything that could be done.I also remember the smell of her, she smoked for 35 years, from the age of 14 until 4 days before she died. I hated it - I've never smoked and I'm sure this is part of the reason. I also absolutely hated it when we were out & she'd lick her hankie to wipe my mucky face - I still can't stand the thought of licking or being licked - yuk!!
I remember that she had mousy coloured hair which nanna used to perm & cut for her - she wouldn't waste money on a hairdresser - that she had very small boobs that she hated and blamed the sagging on breast feeding the children - she always wore false foam cups inside her bra to make them look larger. She had long nails but never painted them. She wasn't in the least bit fashionable or 'with it', she didn't know who was in the pop charts & took no interest in politics - 'What's it got to do with me', she'd say. She rarely attended school parent evenings and never went to any social events, school or otherwise. She hardly left the house unless it was to go to nanna's (she lived about 4 miles away) for a visit or to go food shopping.
But she was always there, at home, but not once did I feel that I could really talk to her - we didn't have a close relationship. Unlike my sister Jackie, who has always been like mum in many ways & if I'm completely honest I was a bit jealous at times of mum & Jackie huddled in the lounge sharing thoughts and secrets.
The most disturbing thing that I remember of mum is that she had a 'thing' about patterns - we never had patterned wallpaper at home, all the walls were painted and her clothes were always plain colours with minimal or no patterning on them. I can still visualise her standing outside the house against the wall tracing the route of the mortar with her index finger against the bricks and saying that she had to follow the pattern that it made. We largely ignored her when she done this and accepted that it was just something that mum did and we got on with life - but now when I look back it was so obviously a problem and should have been investigated - I do remember asking dad about it once and he said that the doctor had said not to worry, it was just her nerves...
1962
I went to St Augustine 's Roman Catholic school from aged five until eleven, it was run by nuns and one 'civilian' Miss Barber. My memories of school are fairly pleasing except for the last year when I was taught by Sister Maurice - she was horrid. She would make me stand on a chair in the middle of the class and called me, 'A stupid girl' mostly because I couldn't get to grips with maths - still can't - I cringe every time I hear the words algebra and fractions - just thinking about this now gives me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The nuns ruled with an iron hand and we were threatened with damnation at every turn. If we questioned anything to do with God, Jesus Christ or the Holy Ghost we were told that it was a mortal sin to even think it and we'd rot in the fires of hell just because we thought about it. I know that this is why I now have no time for God and anything that goes with it - I believe that once you are dead, you're dead, that's it - no great white light or hot flames - dead is dead... Don't get me wrong, just because I don't believe any of it - if you do, that's great for you - just don't push it down my throat - I had more than my fair share in my early life - what between nanna, the priest and the Catholic school
...I've had all the damnation I can cope with..........
1968
I left St Augustine's in July 1968, I'd sat the 'eleven plus' exam but wasn't quite clever enough to get into the girls grammar school. I remember that this was a bit of a disappointment for me, but mum and dad weren't in the least bit bothered and mum dismissed it of with another shrug of her shoulders (she did a lot of that, I remember) but I was happy to see on my final primary school report that Sister Maurice had written, that I 'was more than capable of entering the A stream in my new school' - I've still got this report somewhere... and she was right I was in the A stream (top class) throughout my secondary school.
The first day at Southlands Secondary Modern School, New Romney was one that I remember with excitement but also upset. I remember how huge everything seemed and having a different teacher for each subject & moving between classes was unnerving - I hated French from day 1 and my teacher, Mr Clamp was so horrible. I really liked English Language but not English Literature. I also enjoyed Domestic Science, especially when the babies were bought in for the afternoon and we got to play with them and changed nappies and things. I absolutely loathed anything to do with PE and sport and still do - my teacher, Miss Duell (boy was she ugly - she definitely was at the end of the line when they were giving out pretty pills!) was said to be a lesbian - I don't know if this was true but it was a rule among the girls not to stay in the showers alone!!
I missed my bus home on the very first day. It was so confusing in the playground with hundreds of schoolchildren milling around. They all seemed to know what they were doing and were they were going - nobody had told me was there was two buses for Dymchurch kids - one that stopped in the village and the one that I needed that went to Beach Estate (2 miles the other side of the village). Needless to say, I got on the wrong one and had to walk the final 2 miles home alone & in the dark and I remember being so upset & in tears the whole way. When I finally arrived home mum looked at me and said, 'I thought you'd be home sooner than this'. When I told her through sobs what had happened and how frightened I was she said something like, 'You got home alright, didn't you?' She really never was one for hugging and sentiment - she was always so practical - she did however come with me to the bus stop the following morning and speak to a 2nd year, Dawn Cooper and asked her to keep an eye of me that night and make sure that I caught the right bus home that night - I've been friends with Dawn ever since that day in September 1968
...funny how some things work out, isn't it...?
1971
I'd had boyfriends from around the age of twelve, my first proper boyfriend was Shaun McLochlan, he was a 'pig' and left me at a school disco to 'go off' with Carol Swift - never forgave him for that - but they did go out together for many years - there was a rumour that she left school early because she's gotten pregnant and had an abortion (I don't know if this really was true).
But I fell in love for the first time when I was 14 - he's name was Peter White he was 6'4" and was my hunk of burning love... I was absolutely besotted with him - I knew it, my friends knew it and BOY did he know it!! I carried a black and white newspaper cutting of him playing in a local football match in my purse for many years. When he first asked me out - if I remember correctly it was actually his friend that asked me for him & we went with his mates and mine to the local youth club - I thought I'd die with nerves, I was walking on air - he was so tall and lanky, he wore fashionable clothes and had size 12 shoes - he was gorgeous (in mine eyes, at least - he really wasn't good looking at all). I loved him, I loved everything about him, but he was a real bastard to me - he never cheated on me (not that I'm aware) but to say we had an on-off relationship for the next 4 1/2 years is definitely an understatement!!
He would ask me out and then while we were out he's chuck me that night, then a couple of weeks later his friends or sometimes mine would get us together again. This would last from one date to several months and then I'd get a phone call from him to say he wanted to finish it (again!) or he's just not turn up one night for a date & I'd be all dressed up waiting and waiting - and it'll be all off again!! I put up with this time & time again because I wanted to be with him no matter what he did - I loved him. He was the first person that I slept with, this happened when we were both 17, in his parents lounge (they came back early - funny now, but scary at the time!!) - I remember it being a quick, messy affair with me thinking 'Is that really it?' - things got slightly better but were never great!!
I remember Christmas Eve 1975 (I was 18), he was suppose to pick me up from home and we were going out for the evening - he didn't show - all my family were there (Christmas was a big family thing in our house) and I got paralytic on whisky (I've never touched a drop of it since). I remember laying on our kitchen floor puking with mum and dad screaming at me and each other! Dad half-carried me up the stairs (with a sick bucket over my arm) and took me to bed - I was still being sick 2 days later - Christmas was absolutely ruined for me that year. However, it did cure me of Peter White - I never went out with him again... Many months later he turned up one lunchtime where I worked and begged me to go back with him.
...It was a fantastic feeling telling him to get lost and leaving him in tears...
I ran into Bob Smith one Saturday afternoon during February 1976. I'd be out with him a few times before, while Peter and I were on one of our many 'off' periods. I liked him well enough but at the time I only had eyes for Peter. He asked me back to his flat in Folkestone (I thought this was a very grown-up thing to have!). We started seeing each from then, mainly because he was easy to talk to and I already knew him. However, mum and dad hated him & our relationship from day one - he'd already been married and divorced within a year (this is what mum (Roman Catholic) was really upset by) and they didn't trust him!!
Mum was always telling me 'To see sense', 'It'll only end in tears' & 'He can't be trusted'. But of course, the more they run him down the more I defended him and was determined to carry on the relationship. When we moved in together and started 'living in sin' - boy, then the shit really hit the fan - Nanna was very much the instigator of that outrage!!
We split up during the summer of 1977 and I went back home - guess how many times I heard 'We told you so'? I was left to tell everyone including the vicar that we wouldn't be getting married after all and I still had the dress of course - Do you know how upsetting that is? At least mum and dad were happy but I just remember being in a sort of blur of disbelief & wishful thinking...
...and then on the 7 October 1977 David George Humphrey came into my life & I've never looked back since...
After I'd picked myself off of the floor with the shock of Dave asking me out - I really had no idea that he liked me that much, let alone fancied me. We'd already been working together for nearly two years and got on well enough but I thought he was a bit 'nerdy' and he thought I was bossy and not that friendly. I remember when he asked me to this wedding reception I was frantically trying to find an excuse not to accept and asked him when it was - thinking that I'd have time to think up a good excuse & refuse later, but when he said tomorrow - I heard myself say 'OK'. What was the matter with me - I didn't even like him that much??
At the end of the evening he drove me home and saw me to my front door - he asked me if he could see me again tomorrow and I heard myself say OK - what! - he kissed me goodnight at our garden gate and was gone. It was so weird because as soon as I was alone I was back to thinking 'What am I doing?' These feelings continued for many weeks - when I saw him at work or wasn't with him - I absolutely didn't want to be with him but as soon as we were alone together I liked him - I liked his sense of humour and the way he treated me and at the end of every date I said yes to the suggestion of another date.
I remember that mum would say to me all the time - 'Why are you seeing him if you don't want to be with him?' and I'd always reply the same 'When I'm with him I quite like him' and she always said 'Oh well, he'll grow on you' and I remember saying 'Yes, like a fungus'....
...and here we are 30 years later and the fungus is still growing, I guess.... ;0)
1980
Then one evening when I was getting ready to see Dave, after several weeks of these 'What am I doing?' thoughts & feelings. I just remember looking forward to seeing him and that was when I first realised that maybe this relationship could go somewhere - since then we've never looked back. Dave asked me to marry him during the Spring of 1978. We were in the Seabrook Hotel, having a couple of drinks when he suddenly got down on one knee and proposed - I said yes without hesitation, we went and chose a ring - white gold with sapphires - a few days later and I was engaged - again! Mum and dad's attitude was completely different this time - they both really liked Dave (dad still does) - even though mum still had to say 'It's a bit soon, isn't it?' - but, there wasn't any arguing and shouting from them like before.
We set a date for 5 July 1980 & got on with the business of arranging a wedding. I only had one bridesmaid, Jackie my sister & Alan (Dave's only brother) was best man. We got married in Hythe, Kent at St Leonard's Church and had our reception at St John's Ambulance Hall also in Hythe. Doris (Dave's mum) made the wedding cake - it was lovely - all white with pale blue roses & no pillars. I made mum's & Jackie's dresses (that's when I use to sew). Frank Watts (Dave's parents friend) run the bar and we had caterers in to do the food - I don't remember that much about the actual ceremony, I was so nervous but I do remember that Dave couldn't stop his knee trembling, it was a very windy afternoon but with a lovely clear blue sky and dad keep asking me all the way to the church. 'Are you sure love, are you sure you want to marry him. It's still not too late to call it off' and he really LIKED Dave....
The most upsetting memory is that three months before the wedding dad was told that mum was going to die soon because of her heart condition - we'd discussed whether to cancel the wedding but dad said no and we went ahead with the original date - she was at the wedding and managed to stay for the whole evening too (dispute being sick on & off the whole day) - but you can see in the wedding photos just how desperately ill she was. She died exactly three weeks later on 27 July 1980 at 4pm (the exact same time as Dave & I got married just 3 weeks earlier)......
1981
Dad pretty much went to pieces after mum died (they'd been married for nearly 28 years) and was constantly on our doorstep for the first couple of years of our married life. He drunk too much and wallowed in his loneliness. He got over it eventually and started a new life for himself in 1985/6 with Irene. She was so different from dad - dad was always quick tempered and very opinionated - while she was quietly spoken and certainly had a calming effect on dad - I think Dave & I sighed a sigh of relief when Irene appeared on the scene as she took the responsibility away from us... They were married during October 1988 - unfortunately, Irene died of a heart attack just before Christmas 1998 - Dad handled it much better this time - he had made a lot of friends in the church that he and Irene belonged to and they pretty much saw him through it.
Dave & I had settled into married life very quickly & we first rented a one bedroom ground floor flat in town, just a few minutes walk from where we were still both working. We soon got use to the idea of living and working together and being with each other 24/7 (and we still do! - it's never been a problem for us). We moved, after 18 months, to the other side of town into a two bedroom maisonette and decided to start a family.
I had recently left Southern Rentals and was now working part-time in WH Smith in the record dept, when I fell pregnant on the very first month of trying. When I was 13 weeks pregnant I had a threatened miscarriage & for the rest of my pregnancy I had to have regularly blood test and extra scans. I was advised to leave work early and that's when I became a stay at home wife and soon to be mother.
1982
Steven Robert Humphrey was born by emergency Cesarean section on Friday, 1 July 1982 at 8.10pm in the William Harvey Hospital, Ashford, Kent. He wasn't early (nearly 40 weeks) but only weighed 4lb 6oz at birth and was covered in very fine blond hairs - I called him 'My Little Munchkin'. There were plenty of specialist appointments and charts to keep on him because of the low birth weight during the first few years of his life - nobody really knew why he's been born so small and Dave & I were told by one 'specialist' that he would definitely be a small adult, both in height & weight. Well, he got that wrong - Steve's now 25 years old and weighs around 12/13 stone and is 5'10" tall!!
...Dave's 6' & I'm 5' 6"...
When Steve was 18 months old, Dave & I bought our first house, which was a small 2 bed cottage in Ashford, Kent - we paid £14,250.00 for it (Dave's mum and dad gave us £2000 towards it - see, parents were helping their children to buy property back in 1984 - it's nothing new). I remember when we looked around it for the first time - it needed a lot of work, of course - saying to Dave 'Can you do this and that?' and him saying 'Yes, what I don't know, I'll learn' - now when we look at properties to do up, I always say 'It doesn't matter if you haven't done it before - you can sort that'
1984
Then, again at the William Harvey Hospital, on Monday, 24 September 1984 @ 7.50pm, Thomas William Humphrey came into the world - he was a natural birth but arrived five weeks early. He weighed in at 6lb 12oz and was a chubby, cheeky chappie! He's now 23 and around 6'2" and very slim.
We were having a lot of building work done at home and as Tom was early the builders weren't finished when we left hospital we all went to stay with Dave's parents for a couple of weeks. It was great to have Doris (Dave's mum) there to prepare meals and do the washing while I could spent time with both the boys - I'd read about making sure that I included Steve in all the activities with the new baby so that he didn't feel left out or jealous - however, I wasn't prepared for Dave to feel this way and he did! When he told me some time later, I remember being so shocked - I'd spent so much time dividing my time between the kids that I'd completely forgotten to give Dave some attention. It's lucky that we've always been able to talk to each other or this could have developed into a major issue, as it was we sorted it out between us and continued as a happy family.
Looking back at the early years spent with the boys and Dave - I've had a great married life - a husband that loved and still loves me to bits and two great kids that although are no longer living with us at home are constantly on the phone telling me their secrets and hopes and dreams for the future - what more could I ask for??
