So said the brilliant singer-songwriter Al Stewart. It's a piece of knowledge that you acquire as you go through life, but even when you know it, it isn't always so simple to put into practice. I think I learned it, quite hard, about 15 years ago. Yet even now I find I don't always enact it in my life.
Thoughts over recent weeks have taken me to an old university friend, someone I had a complicated friendship with, but who nonetheless became someone I felt very close to, someone I cared a great deal about, a person in that rare "soul matey" category. We shared many years of friendship together, and even when post-university life took us to differing locations, we always made time for each other - either on the phone, or by travelling to each other's homes every so often. This continued for a number of years before a rather silly argument tore us apart. We've both apologised since then, but it appears that the damage - or rather the time taken - has left too big a chasm.
Over the last couple of months I've been reflecting very hard on friends and relationships, and really saw the value in keeping this one alive, if possible. So I've gone back again in humble terms I think, being completely non-judgemental and highly apologetic, holding my hands up to where I went wrong, and trying to light a pathway forwards for us to take together. I think blame lies in both camps, but even that doesn't bother me - I would really just like my friend back in my life.
And what was the response? Precious little, so far at least. Sure she replied, but it's become a stilted Whatsapp conversation with long pauses, unanswered questions and little coherence. My offer to buy her lunch and talk it through put on the back-burner. My phone call, when I overcame my nerves enough to make it, rang off.
She's her own person of course, very busy, and perfectly within her rights to not want to talk, meet, or make-up, so I write this without any judgement or commentary on how she feels (how could I know that?) whatsoever. But where does it leave me? I have to take comfort in Al's words above, that if something is so hard and abstract to achieve, you're better off just leaving it - at least for now. I'll caveat that by saying that I'm always open to reconciliation, if ever the phone rings in the future then I certainly won't have closed my heart. But it's in hope, not expectation. There’s not really anything else I can do.
I must admit, I don't think I ever had a friendship die, that I cared about. Most of the time you fall by the wayside of the casual acquaintences in your life, and that's ok, friends come in-and-out of your life for a season, they say. But this one was different; I miss her a lot, and that makes me very sad.
Advice appreciated, naturally. In the meantime, here's Al Stewart's If It Doesn't Come Naturally, Leave It from the 1976 album, Year of the Cat:
Today we celebrate the 182nd birthday of Thomas James Sayer, my great-great-great grandfather. Thomas James Sayer was born in 1838 in Sherston, Wiltshire. The son of John and Elizabeth Sayer, he grew up in a household of women - by the age of three, his father had died (we suspect - whilst there is no death record, there's also no record of him anywhere after the birth of his children) and the Sayer family was living in Sherston with the Chappell family - that is, Thomas' uncle and aunt, Elijah and Sarah. At the age of six, Thomas' uncle passed away, and so Thomas was brought up by his mother and aunt without a male influence in his young life. By the age of 13 he set to work as an agricultural labourer, bringing in an income along with his older cousin, John Bryant, who worked as a master cordwainer (a skilled shoemaker) in the 1840s. This income was supplemented by the rent received from a farmer called Daniel Norris (who farmed 46 acres and employed one person - possibly Thomas James) and his house servant. The next ten years are something of a mystery, as Thomas James Sayer appears to vanish from the historic record, reappearing at the age of 24. By this time he had made the relatively short move a Gloucester, where he married Sarah Ann Barnes on 8 June 1862 in the city. Sarah Ann was one of seven children born to William and Hannah Barnes, who were originally from Bath, but moved to Gloucester where they started a painting and decorating business. Following marriage, Thomas James and Sarah Ann began their own family, moving to Barnwood Road in Gloucester, where five children were born. By his late 20s, Thomas had trained as a cooper - one who makes wooden casks, barrels, vats, buckets, tubs, troughs and other containers, from timber that was usually heated or steamed to make it pliable. This skill went hand-in-hand with the development of Gloucester as a commercial and manufacturing centre in the mid-to-late 19th century. The mid-Victorian period saw an increase in foreign imports through Gloucester and other ports, and to cope with this, a new dock at Sharpness on the mouth of the River Severn was constructed, capable of accepting the largest ships of the day. Add to this the increasing importance of the railways to distribute imports into other reasons, and it's not difficult to understand the high demands for barrels, required to store and transport all manner of goods such as corn, cereals, nails, tobacco, fruits, and even gunpowder, as well as to hold liquids (such as using a barrel for beer, butter or as a wash basin.) Throughout his career, Thomas wasn't self-employed, but rather worked for somebody else, providing barrels for these purposes. He was so good at his trade, that by his 40s he was afforded the status of master cooper.
Sharpness docks in 1900
One thing quite noticeable about Thomas and Sarah is that their children stayed living at home, well into their adult lives. In 1891, the couple had three children of adult age living under their roof, which by now was at 15 Henry Road in Gloucester - 32-year-old Alfred Charles Sayer was at this point working as a plumber; Louisa Sarah was a milliner's apprentice; and William was working as a junior clerk. It seems to have been quite a close family group, and one can only imagine the sorrow when the family lost two children in 1882 - Annie Lavinia died at the age of two, whilst Evelyn caught scarlet fever and died aged four. Indeed, Thomas and Sarah would outlive four of their own children, and come within a year of outliving a fifth - the Sayers do not appear to have been a very lucky family. Thomas was able to spend the rest of his working life making barrels, before he was able to retire in the early 1900s. At this point he and Sarah left the city, settling in Newnham, on the west shore of the River Severn. Here the couple lived out the rest of their lives, passing within 19 days of each other, in October and November 1917. It's funny when you research your family history, to find that although you only have fleeting glimpses of your ancestors, there are some characters who just seem to chime with you. I like Thomas and Sarah Sayer, not least because of their fancy choice of hats. So Happy Birthday Thomas!
Thomas James and Sarah Ann Sayer in later life, photo probably take at Newnham
