Life as I know it
It seems that my life as I know it is about to change, though I have no idea when. My mother, who for several years has ‘enjoyed indifferent health’ – the kind of health that Georgette Heyer gifts to the hypochondriacal mothers of her feisty heroines, so my mother would appreciate the joke: she doesn’t enjoy her indifferent health at all – is on a steady decline. Another one, following several previous occasions when her life hung in the balance. It is testament to her strength of character that she has come so far, so often pulling herself back from the brink by sheer willpower and refusal to concede defeat.
And I’m grateful for the time we have had together, time which, I reflect, we didn’t have while my siblings and I were growing up. Sent off to boarding schools – two apiece, my eldest sister and brother to one, my twin sister and I to a different one – as unlike Mallory Towers as it is possible to imagine, we grew up apart, finding solace, I suspect, in learning, reading and books, much as my mother has always done.
The times when Mum was at home with us – school holidays, mostly – I remember her working hard at her typewriter / computer, in her own thoughts, in her workspace. Determined not to follow that particular example of absenting oneself from the rest of life, I have made a very conscious effort to set my work aside whenever I have company, and so far, the effort has paid dividends. I am not as work obsessed as my mother was, nor as I used to be, since I appreciate with fresh urgency how precious is time spent with other people. A realisation that has become crystal clear during lockdown.
Being in my mother’s company has taught me to be patient, and that there is always room for cheerfulness and optimism; being cheerful and optimistic is often the best thing we can gift to any situation. That is a lesson that will stand me in good stead, and for which I am immensely grateful. Why things are as they are, is often unknown to us; but we can appreciate the progress we make in each day, being kinder and gentler with one another. In being so, there is less to regret, less to worry about. A wonderful lesson to have collected from being with Mum.
Thanks for reading.
Please share:
April 29, 2021 @ 4:54 pm
I have been glad that when my parents rang me in the middle of a job or when I was just about to start dinner I told myself ‘you don’t know how many more times this will happen’ and I put aside the slight frustration and told them ‘No, I’m not busy’. Yes I am glad of that and it is a comfort now that I have lost them both within weeks of each other. Something that is not a comfort is that I didn’t speak out to my mum. I didn’t clear the air and say things that should have been said and now I can’t. With my dad I was blessed with precious nights beside his hospital bed when we spoke unencumbered by politeness and social restirctions and we talked about his death and afterwards. With my mum there are so many things I wish I’d said and didn’t. I hope your mum rallies again and you have the chance to say the things you need to say for when she is beyond hearing. Love to you and yours xxx
April 29, 2021 @ 8:52 pm
Thank you so much for visiting, and for your thoughtful thoughts. I really do appreciate your kindness. It’s good to know we share many of the same reflections. Don’t feel bad about not speaking to your Mum. There can be as much heroism in keeping silent as there is in speaking out. Sometimes, speaking our minds simply adds to confusion and piles on the misunderstandings, and maybe you suspected that, at the time… It’s funny, I sometimes speak to my brother, and to my Grandma though they have both passed on; and I could swear they are hearing every word…Perhaps that’s fanciful, but I find it a comfort, at any rate. Lots of hugs back to you. ((xxx))
June 30, 2021 @ 5:06 pm
Touching and interesting. Speaking out may not matter to the elderly, but listening does. I find that a few questions can get most parents to come out with all sorts of amazing stories, even they have not thought about for ages. Thanks for this lovely blog, Fran! xx
June 30, 2021 @ 5:21 pm
Thank you so much, Helen, and thanks for visiting. I love listening too, and Mum has some incredible stories. She loves to talk about what she has done, and the amazing places she travelled. So I learn a lot about her! It’s lovely to fill some of the gaps in my understanding. 🙂 xx