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melting but not down

Friday, 12 June 2009

more doom and gloom

Tuesday night at mum's. After two hours of Mistress Hyde, Dame Jekyll made a welcome appearance and hung around for an hour before I left. I reminded mum that I wouldn't be coming on Wednesday (I rarely do).

Wednesday night at home. Mr Lily has prepared a feast in honour of his wife's rare appearance at the dinner table. I pick up my fork and the telephone rings. Mr Lily answers and attempts to explain to mum that I'm not going tonight, he's cooked a meal for me. At some point she puts the phone down on him. My heart sinks. What should have been a relaxing evening is overshadowed by anticipating mum's displeasure on Thursday.

Thursday night at mum's. All seems well at first, if you ignore the usual 'take-me-to-live-with-you heavy hints. Finally she asks "where were you last night?", "at home", says I. "No you weren't" says mum. "Yes I was, Mr Lily made tea for me and lovely daughter" I reply. "Well why did he answer the phone?" "Because he was nearest!" "I don't like talking to him, I'll just phone you at work in future." As the evening wore on she threw in a few mean comments, describing Mr Lily as "ignorant" and referring to some make-believe incident where I'd put a note saying 'keep out' in my purse to stop him going in it!?! (In the past she's also claimed that he gave beloved son 'a good hiding' when he was young and that's why he never came home from University??!!) It occurs to me for the first time that these stories, for that is all they are, link back to tales she has told me of her father's behaviour towards her and her brother in their youth. Is she confusing Mr Lily with her dad? Over tea she suddenly says "its a good job you don't want me, I'd be miserable living with him (Mr Lily). I bite my tongue.

The retirement flats we went to see at Nunthorpe some time ago, just opposite her sainted doctor and a row of shops, are advertising a £27,000 reduction in price until the end of July. She is considering taking another look. I'm not holding my breath, she didn't like the look of them the first time and the built in kitchen includes a microwave set far too high up.

The new cardigan hasn't left the hanger yet.

Its my birthday on Sunday and right on cue to celebrate the occasion, a massive cold sore has appeared on my top lip. It gave me a rather attractive pout before it got to the yellow alien invader stage. Shoot me now. Please.


Granny on the Web said...

Dear Saint Lily
Firstly in case I don't see you before then. Happy Birthday for Sunday.
I think you may be right about you Ma remembering things from her childhood and mixing it in with today's thoughts, so take heart the venom she is trying to spit out is not really about you and your good Sir Lily.
Have a slice of gooey cake on me!
Love Granny

Lily said...

Bless you, Granny Ontweb. No offence, but I think I'll have the cake on a plate, ha ha!

cornbread hell said...

*saint lily* it is from now on.

and happy b'day!
(i'll forget to wish it so by sunday)

rilera said...

Happy Birthday early Lily! I hope you have a wonderful day. Hugs to you. I agree with Granny; I think your Mom is mixing up her life with the here and now. Even though it's distressing to you, you can take heart that it's not really about you and Mr. Lily.

Lily said...

thank you cornera!

¸.•*´)ღ¸.•*´Chris said...

I agree with the others about your mum confusing up her life with the past and present. Getting old stinks!

When I cleaned out my parent's house, I found things I had given them that had never made it out of the package. The sweater is beautiful, Lily. Maybe you can wear it? You do such beautiful work. I admire that.

Have the happiest of birthdays, Lily. May you be blessed in the coming year:)

Lily said...

Ah, if only I were slim enough .. thanks Chris x