d off my Mothers Day present round at Dad's house this morning, that I'd bought my poor mummy what was essentially a large pot of earth with a few bulbs thrown in. Obviously, once the bulbs flower in June/July time she'll be able to pop out onto her cloud, look down (a la Google Earth) and say "Oh look freesias and anemones! I love those!"Right now, she's probably looking down and saying "Gee thanks, you shouldn't have bothered!"
I'm sincerely hoping that now we've gone past the 12th of March the mood which has enveloped me since the end of December will push off and allow me to be myself again. Friday was the third anniversary of mum's funeral and this is the first year (apart from the actual year it happened) that I have been affected this way. The rest of my family have either talked about it, or pretended it wasn't happening or dealt with it internally. Me, I seem to have had a mini meltdown. Well, you know me, I don't do anything by halves.
My Mothers Day presents included flowers, chocolates, wine gums, a cushion (from Mac who bought it whilst out shopping with his father in post-match euphoria), a one cup/tea pot combo from my grandson (only on special occasions do I remember I'm technically a granny) and a book token from Matthew. Lydia phoned and apologised for the "boring" present but I was out, spending it.
On the way home from Surrey Quays I pulled up at a set of traffic lights, put my handbrake on and found my hand at earlobe level. It was obviously broken. Barely three weeks after my exhaust fell off. I need a new car. And, you see, the thing is my current car knows this and is getting its own back. Little does it realise that all it's doing is speeding up the arrival of the new car.
When we got home, Mac breezed into the house and said "Mummy's brakes have gone!" which propelled David out into the hallway in a panic, vegetable peeler in one hand and a carrot in the other.
My brakes have gone.....that sums up the feeling of the past three months perfectly
6 comments:
I'm sorry to hear you've been deeling a bit non-you (at the risk of sounding like a Nancy Mitford book there!). I hope things start feeling a bit lighter soon.
deeling is, naturally, meant to read feeling.
Grief is a funny old thing. It hits you when you least expect it. Hope you're feeling more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed soon.
I'd be worried too if a loved one came home from driving in a broken car. Maybe it is time you get a new car. Better be safe than sorry, right?
Yes new car for sure, very refreshing to read that your man does the cooking, mine has never used the cooker, microwave, dishwasher, washing machine....
Sounds like a new car was definitely in the books for you!
Sorry to hear you had been feeling down about your mother. I'm sure she will be proud of you and your family :)
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