Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mother. Show all posts

Sunday, 29 July 2012

IT LIVES

Yes, it's been a while hasn't it?  A bloody long while but heck, here I am back like a bad penny.  What is a bad penny any way?  Don't answer that, I just Googled it and apparently it's a counterfeit penny that you need to try to dump on someone else sharpish.  There you go, bet that nobber Pepys was never as informative as this!  Then again, he'd have been on the ball and given an accurate historical account of the opening ceremony of the London Olympics.  I can't be arsed - we've got telly now; Future People - watch that!

So, where have I been? Well, I sort of went totally mental and had a break down complete with medical intervention.  Yay me - I guess we all have to lose our minds at some time.  Fortunately I've now swapped the Prozac for this:

-  Derek

 Yeah, Derek.  I am currently in the process of re-launching the ol' stalled due to madness comedy career with this bald freak as my partner. Here's the plan; I'm learning ventriloquism so we can argue and he can voice a re-jigged version of my inner arsehole posts from over here.  I figure your pets see the stuff you wouldn't want anyone to know and if I can get him to wear a foil hat with an antenna we'll be cooking on gas!  This plan is almost as good as my worm farm one.  Yeah, that was the plan to have a Sketty's Eco-Worm Emporium bucket of worms in EVERY household.  Problem was, when my own worms arrived I very nearly shit myself - they weren't the passive lovely brownish calm English worms I was used to - they were ANGRY looking red things from Australia.  Fuck me, I almost had nightmares, and so ended my dream of becoming a millionaire worm farmer...

So, I'm guessing you nosy bunch of buggers want to know what caused the ol' breakdown.  Well, I'll try to tell you in such a way so as not to sound too much like a drag.  In fact, let me quickly post another picture of Derek to make you laugh first:

...Well, I went back home at Christmas knowing my Mother was feeling a bit tired and crappy so it would be a quiet affair.  She was dead within a month.  Shocking enough in itself but we'd been to Niagara and New York visiting rellies in October and she'd been fine.  Cancer.  So that left me with no parents, no siblings, no bloke or kids of my own.  It's a sobering moment to realise you are, in essence, totally alone in the world.  Hang on, before this gets too maudlin let's have a Derek break...

Greedy thieving little bleeder
So, here we are - a diary of comedic musings and I've just killed the mood.  Ok, I am happy to share the funny side of the death of my Mother with you.  I tried to do this before now but at last I am ready and I hope people can appreciate that whilst death is tragic for those left behind, in all darkness there is humour to be found.  My top 3 moments of misery laughter, in reverse order:

3.  When I was finally told that the end was near myself and 3 of my cousins held an overnight vigil.  We'd been told there were probably only hours left so we sat alert around the medical bed which was downstairs in the living room.  We were waiting for the end to come and so spent hours reminiscing about funny family shit to pass the time. As the night drew on and we all got more and more tired the talk ran out until we were all just sitting in the semi darkness in silence.  It was tense, detecting every change in her breathing and holding her hand.  Suddenly the silence was punctuated by the sound of THE most enormous fart I've ever heard.  There was a gasp of horror as the other 3 people in the room looked from my Mother to the only guy in the room who was looking sheepish. 
"Oh my God, RAY!"
"Erm, I don't even know what happened, it just sort of came from nowhere.  I almost feel I was possessed"
"Possessed by a fart?"
"Well yeah, perhaps Grandad's spirit is here and took over my body....."

Not only was that THE single worst excuse for a fart that I have ever heard, if true, it is one possession they never experienced on Most Haunted.  After the solemn atmosphere had been broken,  one by one the remaining Watchers felt able to let off gigantic farts of their own.  We prayed that my Mother was in a sleeping state and could neither hear nor smell the room in which she lay.  It was terrible, our eyes were stinging, our nasal passages were burnt and we had been laughing at each and every arse trumpet that came out.  It was like a scene from Blazing Saddles.  Farts are so funny, even during tragically sad times. My Mother would have loved being heralded to the next life by a host of heavenly farts.....

2.  Just before things got too bad my Mother spent a lot of time sleeping on the sofa in the living room.  I'd lay sprawled on the floor lost in my own misery watching TV.  One night the comedy channel I'd been watching ended and I couldn't be bothered to reach that extra few inches to grab the TV remote control to find something else to watch.  To my horror an 'Info-mercial' started and I was trapped and forced to watch it!  Here's the thought process of a grieving person watching an info-mercial:

"Fucking Zumba........Zumba can fuck right off..........?........hmmmm they're dancing like they're in Dirty Dancing......fucking Zumb-that's quite cool actually........she used to be FAT?.......wow, look at her......it tightens your core muscles and pulls in your stomach?......AND it lifts your tits?......doing work out DVDs at home is sad....then again, what else do I have to do all day?....Awwww, look at my poor Mom sleeping.....Y'know, I could do this stuff 'cause she sleeps pretty much all day....(lost in reverie at visions of myself moving like the staff kids in Dirty Dancing when Baby first sees them....hell, I'm so thin!  I'm smiling!  I'm HOT).......what, if I buy it tonight I get loads of extra things?......weights.......A BHANGRA dance work out?........."

That simple offer ended the reverie for me.  My Mother had become much more intolerant of many things - especially racial as she got older.  I  was struck by a vision of  her waking from the peace of the sleep her poor body had provided only to find her daughter enthusiastically bhangra dancing in the house - doing the whole arm and hand movement stuff!  She'd have thought she had died and gone to her own personal hell or was having some sort of morphine induced nightmare!  I still laugh at the thought of me - so white and without rhythm - dancing with real enthusiasm and a big smile all dressed up in brightly coloured clothes from the Punjab whilst my mother watched on in horror.

...I was bloody good too (in my own mind)

1.  Ok, this is the ultimate nightmare death of a loved one scenario but you know something?  I can laugh now.  We're going back to the vigil group.  The nights were made up of the 4 cousins and the days had other family members coming and going.  Despite having been given just hours to live my darling Mother lasted a few days.  This toe curling nightmare happened at her death.  Oh God, WHO would be a family member or pet of mine...... 

The core group had their places and as the tiredness grew we all, at certain times dropped off to sleep but tried to ensure that someone was always awake should the end come.  There were bars on the bed and I fell asleep with my face on the bar and woke up looking like I'd been in some sort of industrial accident at one point.  This wasn't the nightmare, just something I remembered.  My cousin Lisa had bought a sun lounger in from the garden shed to lie/sit on at one side of the medical bed.  We'd also got dining chairs and other bits of stuff to sit on.  No one could really get comfortable but we didn't care.  Day had come and the core 4 refused to leave.  Of course I was one of them and so I was going nowhere but the other 3 had invested so much time and emotion into staying up with Mom that no one wanted to go anywhere in case the time came.  That said, we all got up and stretched our legs etc. when other people turned up.  It was about mid-day and a few people were there.  I came back into the room and noticed that my Mom's eyes were opening very slightly.  Letting out a gasp I  loudly told everyone that I thought she was waking up.  Everyone in the house came running over to the bed but the second I'd called out I realised that her eyes were opening a little because her muscles were relaxing as death took her.  I ran straight to the side of the bed and leapt onto the sun lounger. 

...only, I landed knee first with my full weight at the edge right where the spring is attached to the frame.  The spring shot away from the frame and I was catapulted head first into the face of my dying mother.  As this happened I screamed

"FUCKING HELL!!!!"  

Yeah, I shouted 'FUCKING HELL' right into the face of my Mother as she was gasping her last.  I then burst into tears, held her hand and wept loudly (and comically) "I'm so sorry I shouted fucking hell at you Mom, I didn't mean it".  It was like something out of a bad comedy.  She then died, the peaceful atmosphere everyone had striven to create with pleasantly scented oil burners and the comforting music of Andrea Bocelli in the background being drowned out by an idiot Brummie with a voice like a fog horn screaming profanities in the poor woman's face just as she left this mortal plane.  Nothing like moving on to the next life in peace is there?

Like I say, WHO'D be a relative, friend or pet of mine eh?  No wonder I went mental.


Bye Mom, I miss the fuck out of you......

BTW: There have been many things which have amused me over the past 7 months of which I'd wanted to write only I felt I had to explain my absence first and I didn't have the strength to do it.  Now I've got all this off my chest I can resume normal business.  Hope I haven't depressed the shit out of you.

Sunday, 8 May 2011

Jesus and the Daves

Just returned from a birthday visit to my Mother which is always an experience.  Experience One involved me having to attend the burial and small funeral service for half a dead mouse she found in the garden.  The ARSE end of the dead mouse at that.  My cousin's cat has recently gone to live with her and despite the evidence being a bit on the circumstantial side, he is the prime suspect.  In fact, not so much a suspect but the official guilty party.  No trial, no witnesses, no nothing - just half a corpse.

The other observation I have involves her TV.  She has about 4 different remote controls and it drives me crazy as I can never work out which one does what!  I don't even know why she bothers; the TV is always set to some US Crime channel and she just watches CSI (NY, Vegas and the dreadful Miami one - how did that ginger arse David Caruso ever get work? He looks like his eyes have been sewn in with red thread, he over acts in a comedy mean and moody way - but he believes it, and is a thoroughly unlikeable person.  Out of the 3 in the franchise, his is the shittest by far), NCIS, Law and Order and god, other similar shows all night EVERY night.  I actually found myself appreciating them, even the one's I'd seen the previous night and knew what was going to happen, and that's why I could never go back there to live permanently.  I might just give up on rational thought in order to sit with an anaesthetised brain watching made up crime.  At least I'll know if someone is poisoning me with Selenium - I'll have horrendous garlic breath. 

...and so to THE conversation.  Before I continue, I have to advise that whilst I love my extended family, they can be very judgemental, mocking and erm.....I won't beat around the bush - EVIL.  I had mentioned to my Mother that I hadn't been feeling very unwell and my (cough) lady internal bits seemed a bit sluggish and, being the hypochondriac that I am, I was assuming I was terminally ill. 

Mother:  You aren't PREGNANT are you?
Me: Well, he hasn't performed that one since Bethlehem actually Mother.

That brief exchange made me reflect and once I again I got lost in bizarre and unnatural thoughts.  I did think that if the Lord was going to pick someone to carry the new Messiah, she'd at least have to be a genuine virgin and not someone who's basically become 're-virginated' due to the very real fact she can't get any!  I then thought about me having a new Messiah and how 'the family' would behave.  Of course, they wouldn't be supportive or believing.  They'd mock us both.  They'd laugh behind our backs and question why he was wearing a dress, take the piss out of his sandals and whisper about his decision to hang about with 12 other guys.  They'd make snippy comments that his hair was too long and that his beard would look like he'd got a vagina stuck to his face.  In fact, his secret family nickname would be 'fanny-face'.  See, I know my family, have heard the stuff they've said about people and know that this would be the way.  No Messiah, new or old would survive my family without ending up with a whole bucket full of neuroses and paranoia's.  My cousin and I have discussed this at length and know that we've gone wrong.  We've only survived by doing strange things for our own amusement and by small acts of evil here and there.  We both know this.  We both know that we're never right.  For fuck sake, she PUNCHED a baked potato and doesn't even know why!  I pissed everywhere at work once 'cause I had to find out whether incontinence pads really worked (they don't.  Well, they do for drips but not for the entire contents of a full adult bladder) In fact LINK to story.

So, in conclusion, I worry for the fate of mankind if I was forced to be the re-virgin mother to the new Messiah. 

Finally, I had a gig in the week and suspect I'd travelled into the world of the strange.  All I knew is that the promotor was called Dave and I only had a sketchy idea of what he looked like.  My cousin and I went into the pub and found a bloke sitting at the bar in the lounge area. 

Cousin Lisa: Hi, we're looking for Dave

Bloke: Oh, I think you'll find him in the bar.

(we duly went next door into the other bar room.  When we got there we discovered that the bar was the same one for the lounge and this bar with one elderly guy serving both rooms.  We could see the first bloke from where we were.

Cousin Lisa (to ancient barman): Hi, we're looking for Dave

Ancient Barman (shouting through to the first bloke): Dave, have you seen Dave?

First Bloke: No, I thought he was in there with you!

(Enter another bloke)

Ancient Barman: You alright Dave?

(Lisa and I perk up our ears)

Ancient Barman to this Dave: Dave, have YOU seen Dave?

Dave: No, dunno where he is...

...and that's how it went.  We did find the correct Dave in the end but the situation made me wonder why all the other Daves didn't just assume they were the Dave we wanted.  Do they spend their family lives never thinking anyone requires them?  As for the gig, it was at a venue I'd never played before.  The set went quite well actually with plenty of audience participation despite the MC quietly whispering an apology to me for killing the atmosphere in the room prior to my set.  Cousin Lisa filmed the set and I might even put it up on YouTube if I can be arsed.  I'll be sure to post a link if I do!