Lament for a sister

Here's something.

37 years ago my sister would have been born.

But 37 years ago in April we were in a car accident. The car was packed. Me and my two brothers were in the back of the estate my Mum drove. A family of four were in the back seat and Dad sat beside mum. As we turned to cross a road to get into a car park another car hit the front wing and made the car spin fast. Dad flew out of the window, landing on his head on a grid breaking his head and neck. His inner ears drained and miraculously the toddler in the back seat followed him out and landed on his shoulders - which saved her life, but broke his back. However, he wasn't finished. He stood up, head bleeding profusely, and demanded to see us boys. It took several men to get him to lie on the ambulance stretcher. The next day he was immobile. Couldn't speak - they'd put a tracheotomy in, stitched his head back up and loaded him with drugs.

It took a year to rehabilitate him. Even then he was a gaunt shadow of himself. Barely able to walk. Learning to talk and eat with half a throat. No balance making him seem drunk. Mashed brain struggling to make connections again. Seizures taking over his body during the night.

It's a testament to what a mighty man he was that after this incredible setback at 46 he's still alive today at 84.

The only other injury was to my Mum who was wearing a seatbelt. It cut into her so suddenly and sharply that she lost the baby she was carrying. The baby she didn't know about. Her 'cycle' wasn't regular at that time and she'd thought nothing of it.

But about now 37 years ago my sister would have been born.

I sometimes wonder what she would have been like.

I know I look for her in women of a similar age.

How would the three of us grown differently having a little sister?

She could have been a Grandma by now (I'd hope not).

You can't miss what you've never had.

But I do wonder......

Thought I'd share.

Hope your day's been good.

Life goes on

Early start this morning.

Took Jo’s Aztec Football pitch over to school with her for preschool club. The spikes are for the losing side’s heads she tells me.

Jumped in the car and took Ashley to Manchester Royal Infirmary for consult with the Endocrine peeps. No blood tests but further scans ordered.

Back to retrieve toddler daughter from a friend. Fab morning in town apparently.

Afternoon with my Mum putting up a wall mounted TV. She’d bought the wrong bracket and managed to pour a cup of hot tea all over me. Dad (84 today) had a skull cap on. He’d gone into the garden yesterday to feed the fish and slipped and split his head open. Mum got back to find the place full of police and ambulance paramedics fixing him up.

Home for a bath – my half an hour of peace.

Quick tea then all kids dressed for a spooks disco – pics below – younger two conked out so brought them home and left Gill and the girls boogying with our mates. The lady holding Ashley is a good friend and one of his Support Team.

Hope your day was good.

Birds n Bees

We’ve always been open about Sex Ed with Heather and Jo. We agreed when H was small that we’d answer their questions as they came and not lecture them or burden them with detail. My Mum sat me down and gave me the full graphic description. It took over half an hour and just served to confuse me.

School has just launched into the biology of the whole thing with line drawings and cartoon couplings.

She brought a worksheet home this evening which she got absolutely and very comically wrong.

Don’t get me wrong. She’s bright enough. She just doesn’t learn things like an arrow whizzing to its target. It’s more like a feather wafting in a zephyr.

Anyway, when we reordered the whole thing so that sperm doesn’t originate in the ovary (where it’s nice and warm) and doesn’t go on a swim to look for eggs in the vagina, she sat looking thoughtfully. Then she said, “so have you and Mummy done it?”. and then squealed “FOUR TIMES!” at my answer. For an embarrassed moment I almost said “we’ve done it morethan 4 times” but managed to suppress that one.

Homework done and book closed we went back to watching Modern Family (the earthquake one). Thank goodness I’d got through that one fairly unscathed.

She then turned to me and asked “How does it get in there then?”

Mid Life Crisis?

I’m 48 in a fortnight.

It’s a scary thought.

At 48 my Dad had served in the army on “mop-up” operations around the Med after the war, been married twice, emigrated with us in tow to Oz and been in a near fatal accident which has left him deaf and with some paralysis.

He still has his sense of humour though.

At 48 (nearly) I’ve been a teacher, charity worker, administrator, operations/service manager, and now do some hours in a supermarket. I’ve been married for 13 years this November and have fathered 4 children (that I know of lol).

A few weeks ago my younger brother had a heart attack and is now recovering slowly. This has reminded me of my own mortality. Something which has chilled me to the bone, especially with a young family to care for.

I know I’m ageing better than my peers, judging by their facebook profile pictures anyway. I give blood a few times a year and have never been refused in 30 years. Last year I had a lump removed from my throat which I’ve been told was a warty growth and not “sinister”.

Today Gill took me to a tattoo parlour to choose my birthday present. I’ve chosen to have portraits of my kids across my shoulders and back. I need to add Cerys to the list of scrolls on my left upper arm and am eyeing up a St George killing the dragon “born British but English by the Grace of God”.

I know it’s not a big motor bike as is the norm for MLC sufferers. But it is a big step.

I don’t wander around with my shirt off so Gill and the girls are the only ones who’ll see them.

So is it a mid life crisis?

Don’t know.