Newport Glimpse 4, 5

4. Of course, the main thing was getting to see my dad. I walked to the hospital (the Royal Gwent) in the pleasant sunshine. He was easy enough to locate. He looked rather rough - no comb and not eating much. They say he has a touch of pneumonia and gastritis. He was in pain all the time and has got worse since. My dad's not a professing Christian but he had a copy of my book on Proverbs there (my sister I guess). I read some from it but it didn't seem very helpful. We talked about "death bed conversions" - a friend of my sister's appears to have undergone one. My dad was sceptical. I guess I am instinctively but less so as I hear of it happening more.

In situations like that it's easiest to talk of the past. I feel like I know all my dad's stories but now and again he surprises me.

I mentioned Belle Vue Park and it set off a memory for him. When he was about 15 they were doing a firework show there and my dad remembers putting his hand in his jacket pocket. What a shock he had. Someone had put a live toad in his pocket! He never found out who. I don't know, but the way the 65 years just melted away was fascinating.

5. On the way back I ended up sitting next to someone from Cwmbran (Pontnewydd) and we chatted all the way. Sian was off to see her sick sister in London. She turned out to be a year younger than me and to have gone to the same school. We seemed to remember each other vaguely and could easily name 20 or 30 people we both remembered but then there were another 20 names each that rang no bells for the other person. Then there were the Morgans and Evanses and so on whose names were not distinctive enough to do the trick. The worst thing was that both of us struggled even to remember a lot of names - 25 to 35 years is a long time. Even though she now lives in Cwmbran she keeps up with no more people than I do. Teachers were easiest to recall. I often think it would be nice to talk to someone like that and it was - but frustrating too.

We talked about the gospel - if you're a minister, the subject comes easily. She was keen that I knew she believed in God. She thought it so obvious. But when I pressed her - hell is more difficult. She suggested a sort of reincarnation idea - until you get it right. We talked too about our families; Clapton and Akkerman briefly and the Welsh language - how to pronounce the names of the places where we lived, supporting English football teams, etc.