I live with my mum. Shes 86, you know.
It just so happened that I never got married and never had children. Odd, really, how life has turned out. Now Im 57. Had a birthday not long ago. Mum and I marked the occasion together, just the two of us. Theres no one else to invite. No friends, and we dont have any other family to speak of.
We live together, always looking out for one another. I truly dont know what Ill do when shes gone. Still, my mums in good spirits! Even as she edges closer to 90 and her health shows the odd crack, she keeps on keeping on. Sometimes shell even go for a stroll on her own stubborn as ever.
Ive technically retired but, frankly, the state pension is more of a suggestion than a source of income. So I still work here and there. But I dont let it get me down, and Im grateful for my lovely mum. Lets be honest: plenty of folks have it a lot worse. Some dont have a flat, family, or a single spare pound.
But Mum and I have a peaceful, uneventful life. Evenings see us sipping tea, knitting away, and watching our favourite telly shows and old films. Come the weekend, I whip up some biscuits or a Victoria sponge and invite the neighbours round. They regale us with tales about their enormous families. I take joy in the good fortune of others and quietly hope that Mum and I escape any serious trouble.
And so, this is how our life goes. I just want this gentle routine to last as long as possible for Mum and meNext week, Mum wants to plant daffodils in the shared garden. She says, Theyll come up just in time for spring. I nod, already picturing yellow against the grey of winters end. Maybe thats what were doingplanting small patches of sunshine, even as life goes quietly by. Tonight, as I pour the tea and she hums a bit of some old tune, I realise the trick is not in waiting for life to change, but in finding joy in moments just like this. Even if its just the two of us, its more than enough.
