Vignettes - Issue I - Mum
We close our chat with a forward-thinking question. I ask Mum to imagine that it’s 30 years from now and I’m sitting down and having this conversation with my own daughter, Daisy, and ask her what she would want me to tell Daisy about her Nan. “That I was adventurous and wanted to do more than I’ve probably achieved,” she replies without too much thought. I’m guessing it’s something she probably thinks about from time-to-time. “There are things that I’d still love to do but life gets in the way a little bit. I want her (Daisy) to do it all with you. She knows that too because I talk to her about that often. I just want you to go do your dreams together, have those moments that money can’t buy, those little one-to-ones, those little things between the two of you that no-one else gets. She loves you greatly.”
still lived back there and, even when I went home, I would always reach for it. It’s funny but I don’t drink coffee at their house much these days and so when I see that mug, and after all the reminiscing about life back home in England, it brings a tear to my eyes because I know he remembered. My Mum may be the openly sentimental one but my Dad just hides it under the surface. I can’t wait until he and I talk next for my second interview of Vignettes.
At this point, as we sob quietly, my Dad brings out a cup of coffee for us both. We explain that Mum had a falling incident. “That’s not an incident, that’s a regular occurrence,” he says with a chuckle as he puts my coffee on the grass. I notice that he’s rummaged through the cupboards to find my favorite mug from when I lived in England. I wouldn’t drink out of any other mug when I
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