I packed my son's bags this morning in an adrenalin fuelled rush before taking him to school. I couldn't face it last night, I felt too emotional.
In the afternoon I bumped into Muslim mum in the playground. I bump into her now and then and haven't seen her for a few weeks.
"How are you?" I asked.
The last time I saw her was a month ago at a housing forum meeting. She was there with her daughter.
"Four days later she die. She went to bed and didn't wake up."
Her 12 year old had come home from school, told her mum she had homework to do, sat down to dinner with her family, dad and two brothers, then had gone to bed.
"How? Did they do an autopsy?"
"Unexplained death," she replied.
She was her only daughter. All I could say was that I was so so sorry.
Later I put my son to bed just before Eastenders. Peggy/Archie wedding, Ronnie/baby storyline. I told my son I'd come and give him a kiss when it was over, like I always do. I didn't know it was an hour long episode.
My son kept coming out of bed and instead of gently taking him back, I was getting more and more impatient. When the programme ended I went into the room. He was crying. "I only wanted a hug mummy."
I hugged and hugged and hugged and kissed him then left the room and began to cry. Guilt, anger towards myself, sorrow for Muslim mum, more anger at myself. My son is so so precious but the night before he goes away for a week, I put some bloody soap before him.
Like an angel my mum calls me and wishes me a safe journey. My uncle may have an operation to remove a tumour on his spine next Monday. It was meant to be today but as the operation has been postponed three times already they have to do more tests as he has lost such an awful lot of weight since last November. He's 86. My aunt, his wife has alzheimers and is in a home. They were my stand in parents when I was growing up.
It was an emotional evening so I blogged the Facebook stuff I'd hand written a bit of earlier. I've kept myself busy packing for my trip this morning.
On a lighter note, when I booked the ticket I thought I'd save money by not paying for a bag to go into the hold. So I've got a small backpack I'm carrying as hand luggage. All well and good when I booked the ticket but then found out that Luke owns two retail outlets. Damn! The bag is packed to the hilt. If there are any freebies going I'll just have to layer it ontop of what I'm already wearing.
I've brought with me:
A black wrap dress
A red jersey dress
A pair of shorts
6 thin tops
Underwear
A bikini
A sarong
Makeup etc
A pair of wedges and a pair of flip flops
Two bags (one for Burlesque evening)
I'm wearing the jeans, biker boots, another thin top, cardy, fluffy sleeveless thing my brother gave me for Christmas years ago. It won't keep me warm but I'm not bringing my winter coat.
I'm not going to pack England, I'm going to leave it behind, but I will carry my family in my heart.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment