I
gave birth to ten children...
then went to
University
TO MOTHERS &
GRANDMOTHERS - ANNE IS AN
INSPIRATION. |
When
I was a child my Grandma used to say, sometimes in frustration, that
I was so stubborn and determined I would try the patience of the
Saints. She also said that I would have letters behind my name one
day to prove that determination. As I grew up, married and raised a
family, I felt that maybe I had let her down. She died when my third
child was born.
However, when my tenth child was ten
years old, I started an A level course in English and Education
Studies. At that stage I was not seriously thinking of taking it any
further, but my children thought otherwise. It was they who sent for
the Degree application forms to Lancashire Polytechnic (now the
University) and they badgered me into sending them off. After
discussing it with my youngest child who was in his first year at
secondary school, it was he who decided for me "go for it mum",
so I did.
I had one distressing interview with a lecturer
who told me to go home and forget it, to which I replied that I had
made up my mind and nothing was going to stop me. Another lecturer
encouraged me. The interview was unnecessary, as I had already been
offered a place. So at fifty years of age and after spending
twenty-eight years raising a family, I began three years of hard
work and study. It was often one and two o'clock in the morning
before I got to bed. I spent hours in the library researching for my
English and History assignments. Sadly, my mother died three months
into my studies, and it was a great loss to our family. I could not
have coped without the help of my eighteen year old daughter, who
took on the shopping and cooking and who shared with me, the care of
my granddaughter whilst my eldest daughter worked. My husband and
family supported me throughout, and not just they, but friends I
had made at college. In my second year, I had an accident resulting
in a back injury. I spent eight weeks, mostly flat on my back,
during which time, another daughter who was a nurse, called in on
her way to or from work to attend me. A friend from Preston drove in
every week to bring me lecture notes, and when I returned my fellow
students gave me lots of support, as did the physiotherapist at the
hospital fitting in my sessions to suit me.
After all
the gruelling work came the final dissertation - ten thousand words.
I stayed up until five o'clock in the morning typing it up myself to
save money. I was exhausted but triumphant - it was over. Three
years of happiness, sadness, frustration but above all a sense of
achievement, and also gratitude to all those who had made it
possible. With their support and my own determination I had
succeeded. Sadly, my mother and grandma couldn't share it. But to my
grandma - "this is for you : letters BA (Hons) behind my name".
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