Mrs. F. looked at me and knew pretty much what I was thinking and A, my daughter, was pretty upset when Mrs. F told her. Not surprising, he's much as I remember my grandfather was to me, a lovely man. Talking of which I went back to my Grandparent's house in my subconscious/dreams last night. I remembered every bit of the flat, where everything was even the smell of the place and my grandparents speaking to me. Being an awkward teenager and having nothing useful in terms of conversation, taking my girlfriend there for their 50th Wedding Anniversary but I recall, this perpetual calendar my granddad had and as you turned over it's art deco style chrome canister it changed the day (unless you did it too fast). It was the most fascinating thing.
I sit here at way gone 1 in the morning knowing that the booze is probably talking a bit by now feeling a little tearful and yet thankful for having been my parent's child. I can see it no other way, not having been brought up fairer by anyone else (although in my youth I may had happened to mention what my friend's parents let them do!) and in all honesty I just want Dad to have "no regrets" - by that I mean that we always had what we needed and more, we weren't poor but neither were we rich, we got by and I've no axe to grind about it. Whether I'm brave enough to say that I don't know, time will tell on that one and I'm certain that Dad's never wanted for anything else from us. I'm sort of gutted for my mum, my parents are close and have lived as a couple for over 50 years. Modern day marriages (mine especially) aren't like that - I've worked away for a lot of the time and I've worked long hours and sometimes I wonder for what?
Any way - it's getting very late now and I've had my glasses of scotch and reflection. Tomorrow I'm off to London for our 100th Meeting of London Lunchtimers and maybe, just maybe, I'll have a few beers after that. I may need a victim to go drinking with or might just come straight home and have one or two at my local and then wander home.
All in all - it's been one of those days. I have full empathy with my dad as I recollect how wretched I felt when my doctor told me he thought it was a tumour) that's before I even had it checked out. I fell apart completely when I got home and so I can only begin to imagine what it is like at home at the moment. It's a big thing to come to terms with. I remember going for the job at the charity and the President asked me "Did you think you were going to die?" and I said "Yes, I did". You may think it was a cruel question but he knew that the job I was going to do and the work needed as their first PR person needed me to understand what that actually felt like. I felt it once and I never wanted to feel it again and then today happened.
I don't feel drunk or even squify - no idea why not. I just feel distant.
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