annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Mother's day
It's been Mothering Sunday here. Harsh. I won't expand on all the ways it's been harsh, I'll just say there were times when I wasn't crying. Yay, go me. etc. One of my sister's friends lost his mother at a young age and posted a picture of her on facebook, which inspired me to dig out a photo of my birth mother. I don't have many that aren't those tiny little snaps with massive white borders, but I remembered this one, which I have cropped and enlarged to show my mother, my granny (dad's mum) and tiny me. I reckon this must be 1954 and she died the next year. What I like though, and it came to me today as a revelation, is her scruffiness. Dad's family were a bit posh whereas my mum's most definitely weren't - my maternal grandfather was illiterate and worked in a bookie's all his life, sweeping the floor and wiping the boards. Although to be fair, my maternal grandmother was considered a bit posh round where she lived in Wisbech, as she was the only woman who had a job in a shop (Woolworths) and didn't work in the fields. So I like that my mum has a very short haircut and a big grin.
I didn't see any of my kids today though, which was more than I could bear. I've done bearing - I saw my brother on Friday and he's almost lost his capacity to speak, though not to laugh, but that's gut-wrenching. Yesterday I took ED out round the town on a wild-goose chase in search of a mirror to attach to the arm of her chair so that I can see her face when I'm pushing her about and can tell if she's in pain, or bored by my chattering or cross or laughing. I did find one in the end in Mothercare, though fuck knows how we'll attach it. Today I took my seventeen cartons of chicken and vegetable soup over to my friend M, who looks like people look when they're having brutally strong chemo and I chatted to her brother and his wife and maintained a cheery disposition, but then I wept all the way home. Son is knackered - he has been abroad for work, twelve consecutive days without a break, then home to have all that shooting and stabbing outside his office and he's off abroad again this week, so I didn't begrudge him a weekend off, I just wanted to hug him. And YD went off to spend the weekend with naughty Husband, and what's not to like about that other than me not being able to hold her in my arms, the bloody girl. I couldn't go to see ED - she wouldn't know it was mother's day and if I told her, she'd be upset that she'd not got me anything and where the fuck is her bloody son? Off up north to visit his girlfriend and apparently we're all visiting ED together tomorrow. Which is now today, what with clocks and all.
I am grateful for: all the people whose imminent untimely ends I am grieving have had a lot more life than my poor mother who was only 22 - even my ED had a good thirty plus years before the MS stole her away - it could be worse, for sure; I found the energy to go and walk down to the coast just now, almost midnight but I suddenly couldn't bear to miss a day, 3.1 miles, all done; bed now; yoga tomorrow; a visit from at least one US pal, and *whispers* maybe two!
Laters, dear peeps xxx
1:17 a.m. - 27.03.17
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