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One of the reasons I adore Oh Patient One is that he can be very whimsical, and even the smallest, teeniest memory he treasures dearly.

So, this summer we made a couple of trips to Wales because a) it is a beautiful country, b) Oh Patient One is from there originally, c) he wanted to revisit places from his childhood, d) he wanted to re-connect with family members from his Dad’s side after quite a long time, and e) meet a lot of family members for the first time.

One thing I can tell you is that the Welsh language, beautiful as it is, doesn’t come easily to me. It either has too many vowels, or none at all, so I struggled with place names like Llangollen (literally klangocklen) and Betws-y-coed (literally betsy coyed). The place we stayed is called Rhostyllen. The nearest pronunciation I can offer is “Roast Duckling.”

Let me also say that, apart from being a lovely, welcoming, warm group of people, it was the first time ever in my life that I have been in the company of so many who share our last name of Cunnah. When we lived in London several years ago there were only three Cunnahs in the entire phone book, amidst a population of about seven million, so this was quite exciting for us.

Anyway, while we were in Wales we visited every conceivable place Oh Patient One’s family, both current, long-time dead and recently passed away, has ever lived. We looked at the nursing home where Oh Patient One was born (it’s the first time he’s been back there since birth), we ooohed and aaaahed at the small house where he spent about 2 years of his young life, we marveled at the farm where he used to visit his bff aged 4. We particularly admired the house where his deceased uncle lived about 30 years ago (the deceased uncle only died last year and lived in a lot of other places in the last 30 years, too).

On one of our expeditions we visited a pub that had “family significance.” It was a lovely country pub on the river Dee, it was totally picturesque, really, with hanging baskets of flowers, and we even had sunshine which made it look extra pretty. And I must be honest, the sunshine was unusual, because Wales isn’t green and lush because it gets a lot of that particular commodity.

Anyway. Oh Patient One wanted a picture of him and Teenager No #2 sitting on the bridge over the river because 20 plus years ago Oh Patient One and his dad had their picture taken on this same bit of wall, so it was “for posterity.” Being interested in Oh Patient One’s family background, Teenager No #2 asked, “This pub clearly means a lot to you and your memories of your Dad. You must have come here a lot.” Oh Patient One said, without missing a beat, “Oh no, we only came here the once.”

See what I mean about the whimsy?

The last morning  of our trip was pretty exciting. We visited the grave of Oh Patient One’s great-great-great- Uncle Samuel Cunnah, who went to Patagonia, ended up being rich, was childless, came back to Wales and left all his money to his four great-nieces (I’ve seen a copy of the will) and not to his niece (mother of the four great nieces and who lived with Samuel Cunnah in his later years) so clearly there is a family tale we will never know about. But whatever the secret, Samuel Cunnah has an ornate tombstone, with a huge angel on it and everything. It’s the largest tombstone in the graveyard in Coedpoeth (I can’t tell you how to pronounce that, since I can’t manage it myself).