a rare pinch of sincerity

i was forty one yesterday. my first birthday since my mother died. when my partner had our first child, i decided i’d start sending mum’s birthday card to arrive on her birthday rather than a few days later. it wasn’t a big change, but for me it was symbolic of the fact that i had worked out i owed mum quite enough (even without all the work she had put in subsequently) to merit a birthday card that got there on time.

yesterday i thought about the day 41 years ago and what she did and what the attitudes to it all were like then. flower power was surprisingly unheralded in North Shields maternity homes. she probably got on with it all in a businesslike manner and whatever they might have suggested to her, she wouldn’t have taken it lying down (as ’twere) – she didn’t do that. pit women were cut from strong cloth- even if she was the lucky one they paid to send to college and acquire ideas above her station. i don’t remember her flinching from anything in life, so i doubt she did much flinching that day either.

i would have called her and thanked her for the card and we’d both have said we didn’t have much to say and spent a while saying it. but i couldn’t this year – nor will i again. but thanks, mum – and having seen it myself, i now know exactly what i’m thanking her for.


8 responses to “a rare pinch of sincerity

  1. Happy Birthday SW and a (hug) for you and your Mum.

  2. renegadeevolution

    Happy Birthday, and mothers are wonderful things so very often.

  3. Happy birthday North Shields lad (I was born at Shiremoor)My mother died prematurely 10 years ago and I still bloody miss her.

  4. thanks for your wishes (and hugs). i appreciate them.
    even if one of you is from shiremoor… (eek!)
    i did an acting job based at shiremoor (tho as a local i lived at home with my parents to save the outrageous rent costs in shiremoor) and when we went down the miner’s arms(?) (i think) one of the actresses in the company won the meat raffle. as a southerner and a vegetarian she was strangely pleased and baffled.

  5. The first birthday, the first christmas, the first of any annual event after your mum’s died is always the hardest in my experience.

    That is a lovely post.

    I hope you enjoyed the Thai, m’boy.

    big, belated birthday ((hugs)) from me.

  6. Belated birthday hug. This is a sweet, melancholic post.

  7. thanks, v -now i’m torn: should i stick to the new job as arch-feminist or maybe take a christmas assignment as a sweet melancholic postman?
    oh the choices that beset us as members of the educated(?) bourgeoisie…

  8. thanks witchers

    it’s strange (or is it) just how cared for i feel by people whom i have never (YET!) met face to face. see post above

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