My better half and me : a love affair that lasted fifty years

269 Pages·2010·2.74 MB·English

by  Ackland

Contents
Cover
About the Book
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Preface
Early Days
1945–1946
1947
1948–1950 No Diaries Survived
1951
1952
1953–1954
1955–1961
The Sixties
The Seventies
The Eighties
1989
The Nineties
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
Epilogue
Picture Section
Postscript
The Ackland Family Tree
Motor Neurone Disease Association
Copyright
ABOUT THE BOOK
My Better Half and Me is the story of a very old-fashioned love affair, and of
fifty years of lives fully lived through joy and tragedy.
ROSEMARY ACKLAND began writing her diary as a child in Africa and
continued it up to her eventual death from motor neurone disease, 58 years later.
Here, Joss adds his rich recollections to complete their shared story. From the
excitement of Joss’s burgeoning acting career and joy at the births of their seven
children, to the terrible fire that consumed their house and the tragic death of
their eldest son, Rosemary’s simple, heartfelt writing tells of enduring love
through turbulent times.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Joss Ackland CBE was born in 1928 in London. Trained as an actor, he has
appeared in more than 130 films, and countless theatre, alongside such
luminaries as Dame Judi Dench, Ingrid Bergman and Lauren Bacall. However,
his first priority was always his wife Rosemary, and now their seven children
and 33 grandchildren.
My Better Half and Me
A Love Affair That Lasted Fifty Years
Joss & Rosemary Ackland
To our family
PREFACE
Towards the end of the Second World War, fifteen-year-old Rosemary
Kirkcaldy started to keep a diary. She kept it, intermittently, over a period of
fifty-eight years – a diary with which she communicated, in a matter-of-fact,
dispassionate manner, the events of the day. During our long partnership, the
thought never crossed my mind that I might read it – nor did she suggest it. It
was only towards the end of her life, suffering motor neurone disease, when she
needed my help to hold her pen that I read any of her words. I found the cool,
laid-back approach to an extraordinary life of fun, poverty, success, tragedy and
excitement, both touching, and at times very funny. When I asked her if I could
see about getting it published – unable to move or speak, she smiled and nodded
her assent.
For six years after her death I spent all my free time copying and editing the
multitude of words, from diaries of various shapes and sizes. I wrote about a
great deal of our life in an autobiography which was published in the early
eighties, so I now have included some experiences from her point of view, and to
fill in the gaps when she was too desperate or too busy to write.
The changes that have taken place on this planet in the fifty-eight years since
Rosemary started her diary are greater than at any time since man first walked
the earth – even the years after the Industrial Revolution. Class distinction has
evaporated, equality of the sexes is nearer and homosexuality is generally
accepted. Racism still exists, but only with the fading minority. However we are
still primitive creatures, and today we have such colossal powers of destruction
that once the wrong button is pressed we could be back where we began. We are
still immature, and if we are without morals and faith we are liable to self-
destruct. We know nothing of the moment before we emerge from the womb –
and nothing after we leave the door at the end of life.
Our faiths have multiplied, and these faiths usually depend on the piece of
land that we inhabit. Sadly this has often led to violence, hate and war. All
religions can create some balance of self-discipline. As long as they advocate
love of fellow man they can guide us. We exist for a purpose, but what that
purpose is no one knows. Throughout the ages there have always been
exceptional leaders to drive us forward. During the last fifty years Martin Luther
King, Nelson Mandela and others have led the way in removing racial prejudice.
To go forward it is important to have faith – but to despise or reject those whose
faith is different is a dangerous arrogance. With the constant threat of war and
terrorism, in spite of all our scientific and technological advances, we are still
very primitive creatures. We exist for a purpose but no one knows what that
purpose is. Rosemary followed the Christian path, and whatever path she took –
I knew I should follow.
It is very important that the world progresses forward from one generation to
another. These days, once the young reach their teens, it is not easy. When
Rosemary and I grew up, you were a child and then you were an adult – there
was no period in between – no time to balance precariously on that tightrope of
uncertain confidence. Today there are few apprentices and no mentors, and very
few of the young have any conception what we were like at their age. We are
totally different creatures. There are times I feel I have landed on Mars; but then
I realise that I am the Martian.
Rosemary started her diary in 1945 at her home in Malawi in the heart of Central
Africa, and I was in London training to be an actor. This was six years before we
met, and our love story began.
And it is a love story. In those days there were no nuptial agreements – no
preparing for divorce a before joining together in marriage. And sixty years ago
– less was considerably more – the joy of the first kiss, the pleasure of touch, the
longing for the unobtainable – and when the unobtainable was obtained more
was considerably more. Then two hearts really could start beating as one.
And it was not long before our two hearts did beat as one. We became
soulmates. It was not a generous act to see our partner happy. Our satisfaction
was achieved from the other’s pleasure. We loved each other more than we
loved ourselves. When I was working abroad without Rosemary, I could not find
real joy and satisfaction in any location until I returned with her beside me.
Our lives have not been ordinary, but Rosemary always accepted everything
with a calm detachment. One minute she would be doing household chores and
picking up the children and the next popping off to Rio as if she was nipping
round the corner to buy bread. She coped with disaster and trauma with patience,
cool stoic acceptance and enormous courage. Even when our house burnt down,
with no one else able to help, she ran through the flames, and saved our children.
Today I do not have the confidence to return to the theatre, because Rosemary
and I always worked together tackling a play, and it was always her strength and
her calm quiet assurance that energised me, and moved me forward.
By the time Rosemary developed motor neurone disease, unable to speak or
move, it was only with her diary with that she was able to communicate, and so I
have included these last two years in more detail.