Friday, 22 March 2013

326: Let Me Live

So uhhhm, God.  I know I don’t chat to you much, sorry about that.  I can do this now though, can’t I? About these results I’m waiting for.  I’m worried, really worried.  Maybe I need to be a better person.  That’s what I was thinking might help.  If I’m better, you might let me stick around a bit longer.  Anyways, here goes, God.

My mother.  Now the weather is warmer she’ll need that buddleia trimming again and she’s probably a bit too wobbly on her feet to be getting up a ladder.  Last year it spread everywhere and she paid an arm and a leg to get it cut back by some arboreal type.  I had to leave the money to pay for it in her purse, she wouldn’t take it from me.  She won’t ask I bet, just go ahead with trying it herself.

And the kids need to go round more often too.  When they were born I thought she’d burst with happiness.  Her cheeks ached with smiling so much, she told me.  They’re at that funny age now, when they don’t want direction but still need it sometimes.  I don’t want them walking the streets late so I should take them.  We’ll all go, even Pam sometimes.

About the kids.  I forget stuff sometimes, they say.  Truth is I’ve never even heard of half the things they accuse me of forgetting.  Parties I said they could attend, presents I said they could have, boys I apparently like.  They won’t talk to me at all soon enough.  In future, not only will I listen, I will put down whatever I am doing and talk to them.  Reply and interact with them.  That’ll probably teach them.

When I looked at Pam the other day, she had these wrinkles around her eyes.  I said where did they come from and she got in a huff.  Said they’d been there for ages, hadn’t I noticed, and I was no spring chicken untouched by time myself.  So I looked and I have got wrinkles.  And grey hairs with some big wiry ones growing out of my eyebrows.  Like I need one of those men’s trimmer things.  When did we both get old?  Not really old, but older.  

I will also give change to the Big Issue man, take the dog out more, sometimes make the tea, recycle stuff, find some clothes for the charity bag every time one comes through the door, drink a bit less, vote every election and sort out the shelves in the utility room.  Although I might just pay someone to do the shelves, supporting local business and all that.  Because I’m rubbish at DIY.

Most of all God, it’s about time, isn't it.  I don’t use it properly, just waste it like most people do.  I can see that now.  My family is the most important thing, not work or sports or beers with the guys.  If I could just have some more time, I know I’ll use it better.  

And God?  Even if I can’t, I’ll use what I have left better anyway.

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