Three months of pent-up emotion came pouring out on Sunday when I saw Robbie and my grandsons, Charlie and Freddie, for the first time since lockdown.
As soon as I saw their car turn into the close, I had to swallow hard and I could feel my eyes going. I kept saying to myself, ‘Don’t cry when you see them.’ By the time I’d got my stick, reached the front door and saw the three of them standing there, that was it. Tears fell and would not stop.
We had an emotional chat outside while two trolleys apart, eating ice lollies and drinking tea. That day, Father’s Day, was the first time Robbie had been to visit his dad’s grave.
Robbie hasn’t felt able to go because he suffers with guilt for not being there when my husband Colin passed away in 2012. I can’t bear to think of Robbie struggling with guilt for so long – he has absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. Only God knows when it’s someone’s time to go.
I know lots of people who have spent weeks and months by a loved one’s bedside, only for them to slip away in the only two minutes they weren’t there.
Robbie always has a knack of laughing me, and himself, out of feeling a bit blue. Halfway through our chat, he said he needed the loo.
I’m confused about all the social bubble rules, because they’re different in England and Wales. So I told him to go behind the garage because no one would see.
But Robbie said: “I need a poo, Mum.” That one has always been trouble. And that certainly changed the tone of our chat.
Then I had to deep clean the bathroom for hours after because I’m so paranoid. Next time I’ll offer him one of my Tena Ladies – imagine his face?
Anyway, when they had to leave, I hobbled halfway down the drive and they started waving from the car.
I turned away and couldn’t look back again because the tears were streaming.
Back indoors, I sat on the sofa and felt broken. I desperately wished Col would pass through the door again. Just one more time.
After two hours of crying, I caught my breath. I know Col will never come through the door again. I know it was the emotion of a long lockdown coming out. And once I pulled myself together, I was happy I’d seen Robbie and the boys. Happy Robbie was able to see Col’s grave. Happy to have a family who mean so much.
Faced with choosing between the Manchester United v Sheffield Wednesday match or the Newcastle v Aston Villa game midweek, I chose the Newcastle match because Robert was commentating.
Fair play to him, he does a good job. But I heard him say, “I was never the most gifted player,” and I wanted to tell him to believe in himself more.
When Alex Ferguson told him he was being released from Manchester United aged 19, he was so upset about how to tell me and Colin that he crashed his car on the way. When we rushed to see him in hospital, his tears were rolling and he said he’d lost everything – the place in the team and his car, which was a write-off.
We told him we didn’t care what job he had, we’d back him all his life. We said he had the love and support of his family and that was all that mattered.
Robbie soon vowed to work his hardest to prove Fergie wrong. And he did because he had immense determination.
So I hope I’m forgiven for feeling a little bit proud as I listened to his commentary.
I still don’t feel confident enough to go out. I’ve ignored the confusing guidelines and will go out when I feel the time’s right in my heart.
Robbie said he’d like me to stay at his house for a week when I feel ready.
I had to confess I don’t find his guest bed too comfortable, as it’s so low I have to work hard to hoist myself out of it. He said: “No problem, we’ll change the bed.”
Then I owned up to finding it hard to shower at his house because I can’t stand up for very long without a railing or seat.
And Robbie said: “No problem – we’ll get you a special shower seat”.
Just as I was thinking, ‘Isn’t Robbie so welcoming and lovely?’, he added with a smirk: “Mind you, it’ll need to be a really BIG seat.”
It’s hard twerk
Watching Come Dine With Me this week, a girl took her guests out to the garden to teach them how to twerk.
My legs were feeling good that day. So I held the door handle with one hand and had my walking stick in the other and had a go. I looked more like Mr Blobby than the girl on TV. And I put my back out – so I won’t try it again any time soon.
