Time escapes us
July 10th, 2006I’ve just realised it has been a while since I’ve scribbled anything, it is truly shocking how quickly time escapes us.
I was recently thinking about my mother, who died when I was 14, and it occurred to me that I have lived longer without her than I did with her. It has been worrying me that the memories are fading and I sometimes wonder if some of what I think I am remembering might not be memories at all but just false-memories that my brain fits into the spaces where memories used to be. There is one photo taken of us together shortly before she died, I know it is then because there is a Christmas tree in the background, and my mother died immediately after Christmas that year. Whenever I look at the photo, I don’t see how bad my hair-style was, or that it is possible to see some elastic in the waist of the dress I am wearing. Instead I see a tall chubby child, in the onset of puberty, feeling awkward about her body changing in curious way, soon to lose the person closest to her that could advise and explain what is going on. It is when I look at the photo that I feel angry that I was robbed of my mother at a time when she would mean the most to me. When I look at that photo I see a child who would not feel her mother’s arms around her when she got diagnosed with a life-changing illness, or see her pride when she graduated or when she got married.
I realise that the intervals between the times I think about my mother are longer now than they were 20 years ago, and although part of me knows this is natural, another part feels guilty for it.
It’s is my twin sisters’ birthdays today. It was strange, calling one of them at work to wish her and sing the ‘happy birthday’ song which has become my trade-mark, and trying to call the other in the hospital where she has been sectioned for the last 6 months. As it was I couldn’t get her at the hospital so waited until the early evening and reached her at her twins’ home where she had gone for a few hours, to dress up in the pretty new dress she received as a present, and to cut cake while friends and family sang while she blew out candles.
It is sad to hear her casually refer to the grim hospital ward as ‘home’. I guess after 6 months of mind-numbing drugs and boredom, it’s the nearest she has got.
