My Old Mam

I work shifts, 12 hour shifts.  That’s three days a week.  Which means I have spare time during the week to do stuff I enjoy.  On most of my days off I go to visit my mam.  She lives with three dogs.  In a house we moved into in 1970, when I was 6.  She’ll never leave it, except when the inevitable happens.  She’s 88 so that time is creeping closer.  It scares me because then I will be parentless.  What will I do?  I’m not sure I will cope very well.  I dread it.  I can’t even bear to think about it.  What will I do with her house?  I grew up in it.  It holds so many memories.  My dog, Rebel, which I got when I was 13 (alot happens when you’re 13 I’ve decided) is buried there.  As are 3 other dogs, all of which I knew.  There’s also a piglet, Betsy, buried in the garden (that’s another story) and a hamster and I think some gold fish.  How do you let go of that?

My mam is from a certain generation.  She likes to speak her mind.  She’s also very loud (probably because she’s as deaf as a post)  It can be embarrassing, especially when out.  She’ll talk about people who are no more then a foot away, not polite comments either, and you just want a hole to swallow you up.  It used to annoy me but now, even though I cringe inside, I just let her get on with it.   Last time I spoke to her about it she stopped speaking to me for the rest of the day.  She’s from that generation, isn’t she, not afraid to speak their mind.  She’s stubborn too.  Even though I’m quite happy to help around the house so often refuses to let me do anything for her.  I get away with the gardening mind.  That she struggles with.  Its the getting up and down you see, not good for old bones.  Sometimes I tell her I’m off to the toilet and then I sneak off to do the washing up, or the hoovering, or dusting.  I get caught out of course because she wonders why I’m taking so long and she comes to find me.  Can never get away with anything me.

Mum four mum three Mum two Mum Cup of Tea

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