Mammy’s Day
I’m not a mother so I’m not particularly concerned.
Nor have I had a mother since she died over twenty years ago.
There is a theory that my mother is still around and haunting the house. We experience strange things that have no explanation, like the sound of the door bell which isn’t quite the actual sound of the door bell. Quite a few times I have gone to the door to find no one there. Other times Herself will hear it and I won’t even though I’m much nearer to the bell. Then there are the odd noises around the house which cannot be explained. The usual comment is that “it’s just Mother again” and we carry on with life.
I don’t know what her attitude would be if she were still around. For a start she would be staggered to discover that Herself is still around. She told us on our first anniversary that she never expected the marriage to last. The Missus wasn’t too pleased with that.
She would be a bit pissed off to see the state of the garden. For various reasons it has got somewhat out of hand and has gone completely wild. Her favourite flower beds are all swamped by brambles and overgrown with trees. I would just tell her I’m letting the garden grow wild to save Mother Nature and to single-handedly stop Warble Gloaming.
She would be delighted with the Grandkids, as she died before any of them appeared. No doubt she would happily present each one with a shilling on their birthdays.
Daughter said she would call up later today but she’s here to see her Mammy and that’s fine with me. Herself deserves it.
I’ll just take the day off.
It is/was the generations of Mammys that made Ireland what it is. They just let the male of the species play their silly games – feuds, squabbles, posturing, acting the Big Man. Thank God for Mammys.
We owe our existence to our mammys. Or so I’m told.
Like so many things of late, probably Russian disinformation.
😀