Sunday, 1 March 2015
Today is the birthday of my eldest son and he lives far away in Australia. I tried to facetime him this evening, but he was out having a barbeque party at his in-laws, so I was unable to reach him.. however we did speak to him yesterday so he knows that I do care and have not forgotten his special day.. It IS his special day, but it also mine too.. It was the first time that I became a mother. When he was taken to be 'cot nursed' after the trauma of a foreceps delivery, I lay on my bed and thought to myself, how clever we were at having created such a darling little son together. `As I was almost 22, and starting my adult life, I had had no idea or wish to become a mother so quickly at such a young age, but here I was, married, living in a flat in outer London in the 1960's. When we had met after a two year absence [whilst I returned to live in the South of France with my parents, and he had gone to start University,] we quickly became an item again, and I moved in with him into the flat in London's PortoBello area. It was a time of sunshine and love and happiness and laughter. The whole young people of world had adopted the' Hippie' way of thinking. Peace and Love and kindness was to be aspired to.. I never really saw the heavy impact of drugs, I was drugged in Love and happy as a sandboy. To achieve my living in London, I had left home and had not told my parents where I was living. I realise now, what a terrible thing that was to do to them. They had no idea where I was, or how I was getting by, feeding and clothing myself, nor where I was able to sleep. At the time, my world, was just that, my world.. in other words ALL about ME... no one else seemed to come to be thought of at all* Looking back the sheer selfisheness makes me shudder in sadness at the pain that \I must have inflicted on my two loving parents and brother. They did finally find me, two days after my 21st birthday and tried to make me return home with them.. but of course I refused and stayed with my lover and husband- to- be. I know now that my leaving broke my parent's hearts and it was a long time before they could recover, but they never forgot the pain. It was indelible. However, that first day after my baby's birth was full of joy and hope for a happy future for all of us. At 21, my husband was of course far too young to be sensible as a father. He was at University, mixing with other students who were single and able to go out and about and socialise all the time. Consequently I spent many many evenings waiting for him to return home, sometimes after midnight and very often drunk too. However that was all in the future.. Today, having birthed a gorgeous baby boy, I was a new mother with a lot of hope in her heart. That baby boy never disappointed me in any way and continues to have a smashing relationship with me. He is still also in touch with his father, but not as close as with me. For all his faults his dad was trying to be a good dad, but was damaged terribly by the circumstances of his own growing up and was too damaged to really be able to bond with his children, [and we had five of them together during our marriage] that last twenty three years. All these years later, although my marriage broke down, he was the man that fathered my son and for that I will be forever grateful, as he turned out to be such a wonderful earnest,caring, loving and clever son.