Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Remembrance and Armistice

On Sunday we, as a country, held Remembrance Sunday parades and services. I went, as I have done for years, to Tower Gardens. For the last 5 services, I have gone with J. It is now almost traditional that AC's dad meets us there with AC, we stand together as a 'family' and AC then comes home with us. AC's dad is very understanding, and very compassionate about Remembrance Sunday.

This year, as usual, we people spotted, we chatted, and then the service started and we fell silent. The Exhortation was given and then the Last Post started. And then I cried. I cried for 2 minutes, solidly, and then the Reveille started, the standards flew high, and I stopped. It is like a tap.

This year was different. This year the boychild stood in front of me, and when he realised I was crying, he put his hand behind him to hold mine, nudging J on the way so he could hold the other one.

For the first time, AC comforted me.

He grows up, ever up.

That means that today, I am less concerned about him going to high school and having Armistice on his own for the first time. He has broken so badly in the past that I have been worried. In all honesty, I still am a bit. But I'm his mum, I'm supposed to worry!

Today the nation will stop for two minutes. Today the nation wears it's poppies and remembers the fallen and supports the living. The nation bows its collective head to those who serve.

Today I will cry for two minutes again. I will ensure I have tissues and my class can't see me. I will make sure I have a brew before hand to bolster my spirit and pray hard to bolster my soul.

I have written my usual Remembrance Poem, but not for sharing today.

They shall not grow old.....

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone so don't mock the spelling and I'll be back later to sort the layout!

Thursday, November 6, 2014


Once again we are approaching the Armistice, and once again I can feel the distance developing between me and the rest of the world.  I am less concerned with the petty things than I would usually be.  I make sure things are done because I am not interested in discussing the consequences with other people, not because I am aware of the importance of that thing being done.

Yet, at the same time, reading the posts from the other Scotty mums, I am aware that we are different.  Rich did not die in war, he died here.  There are other mums in the same situation as us, mums whose child's father died of a heart attack, and another mum whose child's stepfather died in a motorbike accident a year after Rich.  The child is much older, just started Uni, and yet that child always has time for the AC to speak to her, always makes time to contact him, the whole family is lovely and epitomises what Scotty's is for.

Maybe that's what I need to do for the next few days.  Retreat from the world, and focus on my family, my Scotty family.  They understand.

Several are incensed with the way that the AC and I were treated after Rich's death.  A couple of the more militant ones have pointed out that I have a case to go to court, using the paperwork that was discovered, and fight for our entitlement that way.  I have said that I cannot risk that taking anything away from the BG, because she has lost her father as well.  I don't want her, whenever I see her again, to feel that I went in to attack against her.  I have always and will always love her and worry about her in the same way I worry about the AC.  Not quite the same way I suppose - she's not likely to be behind on her textiles homework as her mother is an excellent seamstress! I don't know the specifics of what I need to worry about lol, but I worry for her generally.  Is she happy?  How is school going?  What is she up to socially?  All that kind of thing.  I don't worry because her mother is a bad mother, because she isn't.  (I assume she isn't.)  I worry because she is Rich's daughter, because she was a huge part of our lives, even when she wasn't here, because I told Rich I would always be there for her, and I'm not really there for her at the moment.

It is a funny time of year, this one.  Perhaps I just need to settle myself down a bit.

More tea....

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Delay in posting

It's been a while since I've posted on here.

My mother told me, when I was small, that if I couldn't say nice, then don't say anything at all.  That's more or less why I haven't written on here.  After the post on betrayal, I was so angry, so hurt, and for the first time in 5 years I let that out.  Previously, I have had a small child, and I have slapped that brave face on and stiffened my upper lip and been a good but muffled mummy.

This time I chose not to.  I looked at my now 11yr old son, and I kept my anger and disappointment away from him, but I allowed myself time to explore my feelings, and to explore what I needed to do.

I had to do it.

If I didn't do it, then it was going to fester forever, like the canker pus filled worm that upset me in the first place.  (Yes, I am not all the way through this anger yet.  But the fact I can apply Shakespearean insults instead of just swearing is progress!)

A few examples of my favourites.....
Shakespeare Insult 13 – Henry IV Part 1
“That trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that grey Iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in years?”
Shakespeare Insult 14 – Henry IV Part 1
“You starvelling, you eel-skin, you dried neat’s-tongue, you bull’s-pizzle, you stock-fish–O for breath to utter what is like thee!-you tailor’s-yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck!”
I do know it's childish, but why should I only allow myself to feel grief and anger and happiness and love?  I have to let this out.

I've waited long enough.