Here I am at 7.25 on a Sunday morning, having watched the wonderful episode of “a place to call home” named the “Day of atonement”. Many Jewish readers of this blog will understand the significance of that title.
It made me think about kindness in the world. There are many who help others who are in need of a great deal of help and those charitable people will devote their lives to helping others. That is not just charity but is kindness too.
The UK is reknowned for giving more charity per head than any other, I believe. Yes, there are very kind people amoung them but there are others who are subjected to many hours of cleverly constructed charity ads and give as a result.
However and very sadly, there is little kindness in the world. States will kill many thousands of innocent people to achieve their goals and those deaths are just seen as “collateral damage”, a simply disgusting phrase if I say so myself.
But away from war, there are those who will gladly put money before kindness. I do not have to go far to see this, as all of my family have chosen that path, to support and shield my father against me, even with the full knowledge of what he has done to me.
This is not a “please feel sorry about me” email. It is just a narrative on the way that the world is or rather can be. Within a family unit, there are always arguments, that is the way of it but they are kind to one another.
My darling beautiful Liesel was so kind to me and to others; she had so many genuine friends and I got on well with them too but when Liesel succumbed to cancer, at the grand old age of 39, that glue very slowly started to fall apart and I now sadly do not see any of her friends.
Similarly, my stunning, clever Mum was so kind and sweet; she really was a gentle woman in every way that you can think. I now know that there were opposing factions within the family, with very different moral judgements to her but she was the glue that kept my family together. When she became ill with Alzheimer’s, the family DID all pull together and with Martin’s sweet talking, conned my mother into going into a mental hospital; he incurred her wrath for that with expletives that he had never heard come out of my mother’s mouth before.
He clearly decided that he had done his duty and promptly buggered off back to Wiltshire, to let Dad and I find a home for her. Being internet savvy, I did the finding and then we went to see the various facilities. When we found one, Dad complained about the money he was spending. Yes, it was expensive but the best we could find. I never understood his complaining. After all, he and Mum had been married for nearly 50 years and one would have thought that expense just would not come into it but it did.
She got pneumonia, twice but never left hospital the second time. She was having pure oxygen forced into her by a full face mask. She was starting to give up.
Shortly before she died, I was alone with her as Martin and Dad had gone to see the doctor. I would talk to her and held her hand but she could not talk back. Then suddenly, she let go of my hand and gently tapped my arm, as though to say “It will be alright David”.
She was alone when she died; she probably wanted to meet her maker on her own terms and had waited until everyone had gone. That was very hard for me, as Mum and I were very close.
After Mum had passed and the funeral had been and gone, things started to change. I was amazed how quickly my father got over it. It was like a bird stretching its wings out for the first time. He started to change.
Although it had not been obvious to me, Mum had been the glue in the family but when she passed away that glue started to break down and to cut a long story short, all out war broke out between my father and I, with my father being supported by Martin.
That brings us to the present day. Mum was so kind that she kept the family together. She was smart in her own way and I think that she knew what would happen if she was not in the picture. She kept many secrets, I am sure and took them to her grave, for the sake of the family.
The family was like a coiled spring, kept together by just a single clip, representing my mother. When that clip disappeared, the family started to unwind and I now find myself in the middle of turmoil now with all but me being on the “other side”.
But I will carry on until I get justice and fairness or until my last breath