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I still miss you Mom.

K

Kandor

Guest
Mom had been dead about 2 months and it was 3 days before my 17th birthday.
I had been watching the telly, (I cant remember what it was now)
The atmosphere in the house was, to be quite frank...awful.
We were all men see...
and Men dont talk much about grief..at least not us, not then, not there.
I remember all the days of pent up emotion and even yes...rage...why us?
Why our Mom...
Robert came in the living room and immediately turned over the channel.
I jumped up and said I was watching the programme and for him to turn it back..
Robert is 3 years older than me and at 20, a lot heavier..
All of a sudden all the frustration and anger he had inside him exploded in a murderous rage....and I was the target for it.
I remember him punching me in the face and holding my hair as he headbutted me,
I fell crying to the ground as his feet kicked into my body...
After what seemed like ages he stopped and walked slowly out of the room leaving both me and my kid brother sobbing..
I knew I had to get out of the house or it might happen again..
The problem was, I had no where to go.
I remember taking one of Dads coats and half stumbled out the door over to Willow House, a high rise block in Vauxhall Rd.
I also remember dragging Newspapers around me that were left by the Bin Chutes to keep warm..I cried that night, not because of the blood and not because of the pain, but because I missed my Mom....
And I loved my brother....

I can remember in the years just after Mom died how empty and hopeless it all seemed,
I remember if I wanted something to eat, I had to go out and get the food then cook it, if I wanted clean clothes I washed them..I supose on reflection, no bad thing...Its just I missed my Mom...and it was the little things that bought home how much.
I can remember my Dad bringing home a friend to live with us..
(I wont embarrass this lovely man by naming him here as he is still alive and well and living in Nechells.)
My Dad found him wandering the streets at the lowest of all ebbs,
He had a right to be, his Mom and Dad had both died within a week and he was too sad to go home.
A. In the years you lived with us, you more than paid your 'keep' you were the funniest, nicest man I've ever known.
I'm glad you've found happiness and the love you deserve..
By the way, You owe me 5 bob..
Hey!! Bell bottom jeans are in! its 1970 and I looked, if not quite the Bee's knees, at the least, the Bee's armpits...
My friends Allan, Derek and me are going up to the Roller Rink by Dudley rd and you know what?
We're having the time of our lives!
Its very popular and coaches are coming as far away as Nuneaton.
It was inevitable really...There was three of us, and three of them..
Aliens from a dying planet...girls
D met E ...an earlier prototype for the Honey Monster,
A met B...a girl who could teach a limpet a thing or two on how to cling to someone
And I met S...S was young, blonde and not anyway at all, anorexic..
I once remember trying to put my arms around her...big mistake!
Reed Richards from the Fantastic Four would have struggled to touch fingers...this gal was seriously big.
I remember I went out with her for about 6 weeks, always wary she was going to lose control and eat me.
I remember the night I packed her in, it seems like yesterday
(I just wish it had been tomorrow, I'd have worn a Frogmans suit)
I remember holding her and telling her gently we were finished...her tears could have ended the drought in Etheopia...She sobbed and sobbed all over me!
How could I tell her that any minute I expected Captain Ahab to shout 'Thar she blows' and hurl a harpoon at us?
The girl was seriously big...
It took quite a while to forget her...
The reason being I was wearing a brand new, dark green, woollen mini Jumper...
Her tears made the dye run on to my chest,
I had skin like the Hulk for 4 months....
 
I'm crying with laughter :cry: :lol: at your posts, you're a new one to me, haven't been round the new sections for some time, but i've still got the remainder of your history posts to try to read - if i can see for hysterectomies (no! that should be hysterics shouldn't it?) :wink:

Need a few more like you mate, keep going, but must say you're wasted on this site, (sorry webmasters) write a book for gods sake.

Luv Dot
 
Um..Dorothy..

Its all true I tell you! all true..
Well ok, I embellish it a bit but the basic story is always there.
I honestly think poverty is a far richer breeding ground for stories than a silver spoon and well...we'll see.
As for your comments..
Well, I have two aims in life, the book is nearly complete and its called(stop yawning woman!) 'The story of my days'
Its about 80 ages of A4 so far and I upto age 30 (just before my daughters were born) its about me and those I've loved I know..I know...boring huh?
:D
It will never be for publication, its just my Mom and dad died without me really knowing what made them tick, I want my daughters to know how much I loved them and my wife and what made me laugh and cry.
And my second ambition?
To open a home for unmarried babies...
 
YES

Yes Kandor...... the reasons for your book say it all!!!!! Keep on writing, its so very important. I started writing solely because my grandchildren will not know their roots, they are being raised in a very different culture to the one we were raised in. Isnt it amazing that once you sit down and begin to think of all the valued experiences youve had, that are worth writing down, once you gather those together, there is so much!!

Cheers
 
I rest my case - absolutely brilliant! :lol:

I started doing the same - writing a book for my family - just to illustrate what made me tick when i was a young bombshell :explode: - unfortunately my kids are dyslecsic - well they were when they were at home -never understood the meaning of notes telling them to 'tidy their bedroom"

And i can still remember how their pupils glazed over when i told them about my fight for survival in the winter of 1947, dodging the snowballs from the bigger kids. :roll:

Stay cool 8)

Dot :wink:
 
Mom never knew her real Father..by all accounts he was a foreign Sailor visiting the port of South Shields..
He met up with my Nan and the rest they say..'is history'
Mom was born on December 12th 1920..
Nan met and married 'Wattie' a Shipworker who by all accounts often referred to Mom as that 'little redhaired B......d'
Mom left home at 14 because her life was so bad..
She went to work on a Farm in Cheshire...the work was hard but the Farmer and his wife was very kind to her...something Mom hadn't got too much experience of...
She lived there for 6 years then when faced with either War work or the Services Mom moved to Birmingham..
My brother told me a story this morning..one I'd never heard.
The farmer had an old Horse which had really come to the end of it's useful working life..
He summoned the 'Kn...kerman' to take the Horse away..I think you had to pay for this service..
My Mom told my Brother that the Farmer told the Kn..kerman that he had to bring back this Horses distinctive Forelock..
The Farmer loved his old Horse and knew of many cases where the Horse after supposedly being sold on for slaughter would often find itself worked pitilessly for as long as it's health would allow it...hence..him asking for the leg..
Mom, I also found out this morning, at first fell for my Uncle Les which never worked out so she then turned to my Father Jack..
I found out today my Mom loved two Les Robinsons..but only one loved her.....how I miss her...
 
Touched

:) I touch my Forelock to Your Mother & You,,,Sir

You are your Mothers child,,Please Never grow up,,,
Best Regards,,, m8 John
 
:D Les you have enough love for your Mom to make up for a trillion 'Les Robin SON s' and many more too. :D

Chris :)
 
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