A strange thing happened to me this week. I found myself sniffling joyfully at Cilla, the ITV three-part drama about Cilla Black.
I know. I know!
How can this be? Although I did cry at the Coleman sauce advert as well this week so my cheese-monitor can’t be trusted.
Even though Sheridan Smith is just fabulous and the love story between Cilla and Bobby is really cute I was surprised (surprise, surprise) to find myself swept up in bittersweet nostalgia
You see the whole show reminded me of my Dad. My lovely Dad who I lost 13 years ago.
And I miss my Dad. Lots.
Anyone who has lost a parent will tell you that it is the silly stuff that catches you out. The unpredictable thing when you are least expecting it – that’s the surprise you see, surprise, surprise (sorry! I’ll stop!). Sometimes those memories can be painful but then at other times, they are worth their weight in gold.
The show took me back to a time when my Nan (my Dad’s mum) had a stall in a local market selling fur coats and pink fluffy negligees (back in the day when both were acceptable). I loved going to that market. I loved the banter and bartering. I mostly loved going around the other stall holders, my Nan’s mates, who would give me 50 pence to spend on the toy stalls. It was beyond ace on toast.
There was one stall holder that held particular fascination – a lovely lady called old Cilla – whose daughter hosted a show on a Saturday night that we could stay up for. I was in awe of the fact that my Nan was friends with her.
I would pester my Dad for information but she was just always Cilla from the block to him (before Jenny got in on the action). My Nan was not so shy and would regale us with stories – usually putting herself in the epicentre (she was pretty cool my Nan).
|Cilla, Alan and Old Cilla. Source: Daily Mail|
Getting a slice of your childhood handed back to you on a plate on a Monday night is quite a gift. Especially as I get older and my links to my Dad’s family become less and less. His stories are not shared as they once were. But for two nights recently I’ve been thrust into them again and I felt like I had him in touching distance. Precious stuff.
So who is joining me for the final part of the series tomorrow? Look out for old Cilla’s chums in her parlour.
If the unexpected brings a smile.
That’s a big surprise.
|Gabe says: “Anyone got any idea what she is talking about? Anyone? Nope! Nor us.
But I do like the sound of those pink negligees.”