After twentyone years of marriage, one evening my wife, Ethel, turned to me and said, You ought to ask another woman out for dinner and a film. I blinked, surprised. She smiled faintly and added, I love you, but I know theres someone else who loves you too and has been waiting for a bit of your time. That other woman was my mother.
Margaret had been on her own for nineteen years since my father passed away. Between work and looking after our three kids, I barely saw her. That night I rang her up and said, Mum, how about we go out for dinner and a movie tomorrow? Just the two of us.
Whats wrong, love? Everything alright? she asked, a hint of worry in her voice. Mother always took sudden calls as a sign of bad news.
Nothings wrong, Mum. I just want to spend an evening with you. She fell silent for a moment, then replied gently, Id love that.
On Friday after work I drove to her flat. She was waiting, dressed up, smiling, in the same dress shed worn on our wedding anniversary. I told the neighbours I was having a date with my son, she laughed, and theyre all eager to hear how it went.
We slipped into a tiny, cosy bistro in Notting Hill. She took my arm the way she used to when I was a child, tender and familiar. When the menu arrived, I read it aloud because the print was tiny for her.
One day I read the menu to you, she said with a grin. Now its my turn, Mum, I replied.
We talked for agesabout life, about memories, about everything that had piled up between us over the years. We missed the film, but we didnt mind. When I drove her home she said, Id love to do this again, but next time Ill be the one to invite. I smiled and agreed.
A few days later Margaret suffered a sudden heart attack and died. I never got the chance to say goodbye. Some weeks later a plain envelope arrived. Inside was a copy of the restaurant bill and a note that read:
I paid in advance. I wasnt sure Id be there, but I wanted to settle a dinner for twofor you and your wife. Youll never know how much that night meant to me. Love you, son.
Thats when I realised you must never put off saying I love you. Give the people you cherish your time, because family isnt something for later. Family is now.
