Ma…please forgive me..

Posted: December 24, 2011 in Uncategorized
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English: Candles on a German Christmas tree De...

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Me ma did come home… eventually.   Last  night – dead late.    Some fella (not Binny) was banging on the door at about midnight.   I went and answered the door and there was me ma leaning heavily on this huge fella who stunk of booze.   I pulled her off him and dragged her into the hall.  The fella didn’t hang around… he staggered off down the street, saluting me before he  went.  I just shut the door and half carried me ma to the bedroom – where she’d passed out before her head touched the pillow.   I quickly took the tree out of the mop bucket and emptied the soil out, before putting the mop/sick bucket by her bed.. I knew she’d be needing it.

Once I knew she was laying on her side so she wouldn’t choke on her own sick, I left her to it, and locked myself in my bedroom for the night.

Once again the tears came… me ma was home safely, I should have been made up!  But I just couldn’t stop crying and crying and crying.  By the time I got up late this morning, my eyes looked like I’d done ten rounds with Mike Tyson.   I  checked on me ma.. she was still in the position I left her in last night, but still breathing, so I just put a glass of water by her bed and shut the door over.

As the day went on I kept thinking about Christmas tomorrow, and whether me ma would be awake (or at home) to sit on her new painted chair I’d made her.  I didn’t have any wrapping paper to wrap it up, so I covered it in a sheet (no difference really!).

late afternoon I made myself a cup of coffee and took it into the livingroom.  The Chrimbo tree was laying on the floor, all its roots bare, and almost without any needles.  I decided there was no point in having it there, so I dragged it out of the house along the hall and out of the front door.   My heart was heavy as I opened the bin and piled the lot into it.   A fella walking passed told me off for putting garden rubbish in the main bin… I stuffed it in further and told him to f&ckoff and mind his own business.

The branches wouldn’t break… I got mad and started smacking the branches with my hands, trying to break them to fit in the bin… I kept smacking them until my fingers started to bleed.  ‘You’re a bleedin’ nutjob!’ said the fella as he toddled off down the street.

‘Yeah, and you’ll be next if you don’t shut up!’ I screamed.     I tried to put the lid down on the bin but it wouldn’t close.  I slammed it and slammed it and slammed it.. but it was no good!   I fell backwards and ended up sitting on the step…. the pain in my heart, and stinging in my eyes got stronger – I could see all the lights from the Chrimbo trees in people’s houses.   Here was the tears again… God I felt so stupid.. what was wrong with me!!  I’m such a girl!

I heard a car pull up the street, but couldn’t look up.  It parked close to my house.  I heard the door shut, and footsteps.  I looked up but couldn’t see through my tears.

There was a man’s voice ‘Tommy?’  I stopped crying.. wiping my eyes and looking up.  It was Anthony! He was standing on our path looking down at me.

‘Anthony! What are you doing here?’  I tried to sound like I hadn’t been crying, but it wasn’t working.

Anthony smiled ‘Are you all right?’

I stood up and wiped my eyes.. trying to put on a deeper voice ‘Yeah yeah, good, good!’

‘I came to see if you were ok, and ask what you’re doing for Christmas? ‘

‘I’m good’ I said again.. but I could see his concern, and I just burst into tears AGAIN!  How embarrassing.  He put his arm out and I hugged him, crying into his shoulder.  He told me it would be all right.

He pulled away and said something which made me cry again ‘Do you want to spend Christmas day with us?’.

I found myself almost shouting out.. ‘Yeah, yeah I do.. I do!’.

I left a note on the kitchen sideboard for me ma, telling her where I was staying if she wanted to come and spend Christmas with Anthony and his wife.    I felt guilty, but it didn’t stop me grabbing my coat and getting into Anthony’s warm, posh car… while he drove to a place for a real Christmas, with a real tree and real presents.

I love you ma, but I don’t want to be alone for Christmas x

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Comments
  1. Jan says:

    This one made me cry!!

  2. Jen says:

    I should have read the ‘about’ section first – I was so concerned for this person writing about his inner heartstrings – widely on the internet for everyone to see! Being a Social Worker, my next thought was ‘oh no, how old is this person? is this a child!?’

    Then I read what this blog is about, and I LOVE the idea. I’m off to subscribe.

    • scousepov says:

      Hi Jen, thanks for that! That’s funny… So I almost had the social services knocking at my door? Don’t worry, he’s all a figment of my imagination! Lol. Glad you’ve signed up! I loved your Liverpool travelogue… I’ll certainly keep up with your adventures!

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