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timmy
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Has no life at all |
Location: UK, in Devon
Registered: February 2003
Messages: 13818
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I went to visit my mother. She's knocking on a bit, 86 last birthday. It was important to help her sort out her finances. She's short of money and lives in a house that has cash tied up in it and is a waste. So we worked out how to get her an income from bricks and mortar. That was ok.
That house is a place I have all my childhood memories in. It is a few days older than I am. They moved in just before I was born. And I inhabited it. And today I found I was about to burst into tears in the living room of my mother's house because the memories all came crowding in.
I don't really have any good memories there. It was the cold house I lived in. It was the house I was ill in, so ill as an infant I was never expected to live. It;s the house I fought them over medicine in. The house I was "smacked" in, the house I had no room in to call my own, but had to move between rooms whenever different aunts came to claim "their bedroom". It was the house I was forced to do homework in, and the house I had to leave each day to got to school 5 miles away, by train in the early years, by bike down a hellish busy major road. It was the house friends would only come to once, never twice. It was a house where I felt always in trouble and never "at home"
And I nearly showed her how badly it hurts me. And she would never have understood, because she is all "stiff upper lip for the neighbours"
I was never at home there. I lived there. Watched, poked, prodded and pried into but never seen. I grew up eventually, but not there.
I have no emotion for my mother. She is a small, plump grey haired woman I happen to know. I'm not even sad about that. I just see it. She never knew me then. She doesn't know me today. She just sails serenely through life knowing she got something wrong, but never understanding that it was MOTHERHOOD she failed at
It was the house where no-one was abnormal. Everything was "just so". No cat no dog, not even a pet ant.
I feel very low this evening. I have done all day
I went and sat for an hour on Epsom Downs today overlooking my old world. And I saw London. Impersonal and as vast as my little life was small
Author of Queer Me! Halfway Between Flying and Crying - the true story of life for a gay boy in the Swinging Sixties in a British all male Public School
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