Ramblings of a complete fruit loop.

I have been a bit glum lately. Actually, I have been a raving misery, crashed quite spectacularly and was beginning to think that I might even have to go and be tortured by the chinese needle man any day. ( you'd like that wouldn't you? I have evidence that the writings about my treatments were quite the thing to look forward to, you could all care less about the humiliation of my knickers shooting off, I am nought but an object of mirth )
I have had that sinking feeling on awakening, that feeling where rather than wake and leap out of bed saying " GOOD MORNING GOD!" you hide back under the quilt and mutter "ugh, good God, morning."
I hate that. I have much to be cheery about. Things are sort of tickedy boo and dandy. Ack. Mayhaps I am one of those never happy without a drama people. I don't think so.
Sometimes, I get like this and don't know why and then suddenly something will happen that is like a light bulb clicking on. That happened today. Thank goodness, imagine having to do the needles and smelling like a camphored up old biddy again in order to stop bloody crying all the time.
So, have you gathered that I am a firm believer in all things spiritual? I pretty much know that there is more than we can see and much more than we will ever understand and that when we die, we don't just disappear.
I have comforted myself this past 11 months with lovely pictures of my dad in the hereafter, living it up with people he loved and missed that he was reuinited with. Etc. Etc.
I thought that he would be thinking about us and all, but would be so busy dancing with the angels and singing with Jesus that really, there just isn't time to think about us much.
Turns out that mum still feels him around her all the time and things happen that make her sure he is still watching her, a lot. For some reason, this threw me into the deepest doldrums.
Oh NO! It means he can't be happy and he is sad and missing her too much to enjoy even the glories of the eternities. Is this life nicer than the next? because THAT would be depressing. Really depressing. What is it all about if he is sad, because we can't help him or bring him back.
( Hmmm, beginning to think , seeing THAT in black and white, that a visit to somewhere more secure than an acupuncturist might be in order)
Anyway, thoughts like these are generally best kept as thoughts because when voiced, well you sound like a lunatic and it's always best to keep that type of information quiet. The trouble with thoughts kept to oneself, when you are me, is that they grow and bleed and turn into monstous great mental boils that threaten to make your brain fester and explode. Gah.
And the thing about my mum is that she is just so lovely.
I am 44 and I can still walk into her bedroom and snot cry about how "dad must be miserable in heaven and what can we do and OH MY HELL we'll never be happy and neither will he and nothing is ever going to be alright again is it..and oh are you ready to go and have a camera down your throat for the ninth time and Seth followed me out of school THREE times in this torrential rain and I had to keep taking him back and my trousers are soaking wet and his teacher heard me yell at him and now she thinks I am a horrible mother and he might hate me and I think the cat has pooed in his litter tray because your kitchen? It stinks! "
I can do all that and even though it is HER husband that died, and it is HER that is about to have her 9th endoscopy, HER kitchen that smells like cat poo, she just loves me and says all the right things and makes ME feel better.
I shout at my kids when they are frightened of going into school and they are 5 and 6. Old cow.
The endoscopy went well, she is much better, she might even be able to eat without weeping for a while.
At the hospital we were entertained by a man in his late 60s who was splendidly irreverant and had us all howling with laughter. It was one of those golden times that you couldn't buy. He was still under the sedation a bit, so was mum which actually added to the hilarity of it all.
Somehow, for who knows what reason he told us that his wife ( the dragon, god love her) had come into some money.
"well when you've never had no money, time you get to our age, what are we eant to do with it? We got our dog, home and she got a new car, what more d'we need?" Then he said to mum

" course, you had some money you could buy yourself a toy boy"

I said " she doesn't want one of those, she wants a blind millionaire with no arms"

Much snorting and then the question " NO ARMS?? Why no ARMS?"

"Well, because she can't be doing with all that groping malarchy, he'd just say..there's my wallet help yourself"

"where'd you live my lover? Tell me where you live and I'll come round tonight, tie me arms behind me back and we'll give it a go!"

We sat in the recovery room, nurses and patients and family, everyone of us hooting, the man in the centre of it all stopped laughing for a minute and said " See? This is what it's all about, you can't fault this place can you? They look after you and can't help you enough. They're bloody marvellous here, we're lucky as hell aren't we?"
And we are. I hope dad was watching, if he is, he can see that it's all OK, he can be happy and see that even when the cat has made the house stink and mum has to have yet another procedure we can still laugh. Life isn't that bad is it?
Still wish I could stay in bed all day tomorrow though.