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    #26
    Phone calls with parents

    That mother that my wife saw was probably delighted to have that time with her daughter whether she picked up on the frustration or not.

    My mother-in-law is in her late 70s and in the initial stages of senile dementia. She’ll be moving into an old-people’s home very soon, not 500 yards from her only child’s flat. She’s delighted to spend time with her daughter.

    However, 30 to 40 years ago, when her daughter needed her, my mother-in-law didn’t want to know. Even five or ten years ago, when her daughter no longer needed her, but wanted to spend time with her, she didn’t want to know, as she’d just embarked on a new relationship, with a woman who couldn’t come to terms with the fact that an OAP might, just might, have had a child at some point in the previous 65 years.

    Now she’s fucked, and broke, she’s turned to her daughter, as her daughter’s the one who’s expected to fill in the forms, argue the toss with the authorities, contact the bank when she’s bollocksed things up, ring up (and pay) the locksmith when she’s lost her keys and all the rest of it. I would have told her to fuck off, but it’s not my mother. I won’t miss her one bit when she’s gone. She’s not a wicked person, she’s just been incredibly self-centred all her life.

    For what it’s worth, I’ve never missed my own mother, who died over 20 years ago. We didn’t have a good or bad relationship; we didn’t really have any relationship at all. I was her son, she was my mother, and that was that.

    I was in the room (or, to be more precise, the curtained-off cubicle) while she was dying and I felt nothing. After she’d died, I emerged from the cubicle, said to my father and sister, “Mother’s dead”, thanked the nurses at the hospice and then went back to my father’s place to watch the Super Bowl.

    He's right. You should. The chips at Twerton Park are astonishingly bad value at £2 a pop and still people buy them.

    Not possible to sell chips, I'm afraid. The hut would need an extractor hood. This would require loads of money as well as permission from the local authorities, and I have neither.

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      #27
      Phone calls with parents

      Jesus, if my wife ever said "that's your Dad on the phone", my blood would freeze. It could only mean unbelievably bad news.

      Comment


        #28
        Phone calls with parents

        treibeis wrote: [i]My mother-in-law is in her late 70s and in the initial stages of senile dementia. She’ll be moving into an old-people’s home very soon, not 500 yards from her only child’s flat. She’s delighted to spend time with her daughter.

        However, 30 to 40 years ago, when her daughter needed her, my mother-in-law didn’t want to know. Even five or ten years ago, when her daughter no longer needed her, but wanted to spend time with her, she didn’t want to know, as she’d just embarked on a new relationship, with a woman who couldn’t come to terms with the fact that an OAP might, just might, have had a child at some point in the previous 65 years.

        Now she’s fucked, and broke, she’s turned to her daughter, as her daughter’s the one who’s expected to fill in the forms, argue the toss with the authorities, contact the bank when she’s bollocksed things up, ring up (and pay) the locksmith when she’s lost her keys and all the rest of it. I would have told her to fuck off, but it’s not my mother. I won’t miss her one bit when she’s gone. She’s not a wicked person, she’s just been incredibly self-centred all her life.

        For what it’s worth, I’ve never missed my own mother, who died over 20 years ago. We didn’t have a good or bad relationship; we didn’t really have any relationship at all. I was her son, she was my mother, and that was that.

        I was in the room (or, to be more precise, the curtained-off cubicle) while she was dying and I felt nothing. After she’d died, I emerged from the cubicle, said to my father and sister, “Mother’s dead”, thanked the nurses at the hospice and then went back to my father’s place to watch the Super Bowl.
        Ah, tepid parent-child relations - as British as fish and chips and drunken brawls on a Saturday night. Both root and consequence of Britain's bizarre paedophobia.

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          #29
          Phone calls with parents

          Geoffrey de Ste. Croix wrote: Jesus, if my wife ever said "that's your Dad on the phone", my blood would freeze. It could only mean unbelievably bad news.
          Thank you dearly for not referring to her as "Lady de Ste. Croix", "Mrs Geoffrey", "The Geofrette", "The Lady Who Irons My Shirts" or any other Internet cute-ism.

          Comment


            #30
            Phone calls with parents

            [quote]Roderick Spodes black shorts wrote:
            Originally posted by treibeis
            Ah, tepid parent-child relations - as British as fish and chips and drunken brawls on a Saturday night. Both root and consequence of Britain's bizarre paedophobia.
            Just as you seem to be not all that fond of admittedly unnecessary, but ultimately harmless synonyms for the word 'wife', I'm not all that taken by the habit of attributing certain woes to people's birthplace.

            Most people who have contributed to this thread are, I believe, British and don't appear to have (had) tepid parent-child relations.

            And The Slag Who Gets My Tea On The Table and her mother aren't British.

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              #31
              Phone calls with parents

              My mum is 80 and is in a stage of physical decline that is as depressing to witness as it is inevitable. Phone calls with her used to be quite awful (and there's still a tiny bit of fear in me when their number comes up on my phone, because one day a call is going to be *that* call, and there's nothing I can do about that), but she's perked up with our expected and all, so it's not as bad as it used to be. Moreover, my wife is always plenty happy to speak to her and has reservoirs of patience (insert "why she married me" joke here) and it really is quite wonderful that they've bonded as closely as they have.

              My dad has, as I suspect many working class Londoners have, a "phone voice" which is quite unlike how he speaks to anybody else, ever. I do occasionally wonder whether this might be dying out.

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                #32
                Phone calls with parents

                I had your standard British-issue arm's length relationship with my parents all my life. They stayed out of my shit, and I out of theirs. But when dad was diagnosed with lung cancer four years ago, he and I started phoning and talking on a weekly basis. When things got bad (the last year or so), I saw him at least once a week. I saw him every day in his last few months.

                Now that he's gone (a year last week), my relationship with mom is closer than ever. I talk to her every other day and make a point of seeing her at least once a week; sometimes twice. We talk about all manner of things and she bounces thoughts and ideas off me. I helped her organize the re-roofing last month and I cut her lawn when the neighbourhood guy forgets. She's happy to come over and feed the cats when we go away. Happily, it's a two-way street.

                My sister, on the other hand, stayed distant from dad up until the last month when she swooped in to 'look after him'. She's now just as distant from mom, and will no doubt make some transparently heroic gesture in her final days when they come. Ah, well, you can't live other people's lives for them.

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                  #33
                  Phone calls with parents

                  But yeah, phone calls are mainly about what happened at the euchre and who won what on the casino bus trip run from the seniors' club. But that's her life, you know?

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                    #34
                    Phone calls with parents

                    Both my parents are in their early 80's are fit and well and look after themselves. I ring them every Sunday (taking care not to clash with Countryfile) and chat to them both, usually Dad first to talk sport and stuff and then my mum to talk about family and stuff.

                    Both of my wifes parents have been moved into an old peoples home this year and they are now not the most communicative (one has alzheimers and the other late-stage Parkinsons). When my phone conversation with my mum is drawing to an end and she's finished going through the list of family ailments, she always insists on having a natter with my wife now as well, which I think is really nice.

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                      #35
                      Phone calls with parents

                      My mother is coming to see us and I was speaking to her yesterday trying to establish what time she'd arrive.

                      "What time does your bus get in"

                      "Well I leave at 10 and get into Glasgow at 14:10. No, wait, I leave Glasgow at 14:10. Oh, they've changed these timetables, I can't see.."

                      "Focus Mum, focus. What time do you get into Aberdeen?"

                      "Oh right well, 14:10"

                      "No isn't that when you get into Glasgow"

                      "Yes that's when I get into Glasgow"

                      "OK but when do you get into Aberdeen???"

                      "Hold on, I'm trying to read this thing" rustle, rustle

                      "Hello!"

                      "Hello!"

                      "I can't hear you! Oh this phone, the sound must be broken. Hello HELLO!"

                      " Mum, can you hear me now?"

                      "Oh yes, that's fine now. I was holding the phone upside down."

                      Still no idea when she's due in.

                      Comment


                        #36
                        Phone calls with parents

                        Actually, as a "So, mothers-in-law kicking the bucket" thread didn't seem important enough at the time with other people's troubles, I can tell the last words story.

                        First of all, one of the things I did for my mother-in-law was massage her back as she was a great deal of pain with it. It isn't as odd as many would think as she was a qualified masseur so we didn't have quite the queasiness about physical contact that other may have. That already looks wrong to me but hey ho.

                        As the problem with her mainly - and which did for her in the end - were her lungs, it helped if I lightly drummed up and down where her lungs were with the side of my fists. I should point out that, as an expert, she suggested this. I had done this the Friday before she died. Indeed, as she was so slight, I was worried that the coroner would find bruises up and down her spine and I would be taken down the nick for doing her in.

                        Anyway, on the Sunday, she was obviously in a great deal of pain, she meant to ask my brother in law who was visiting and, then when she forgot, my wife who visited later to do the same as I did. She also forgot to ask my wife and texted her saying "I forgot to ask one of you to thump me before you left." This remains her last text to my wife so be careful what you text to people.

                        On the day she died, after we had had a laugh about the text, my wife was trying to remember her mum's last words to her. She was really upset because she had phoned her on the morning before she died and had a bit of a frustrated conversation before she died. This was exacerbated - and, in truth, probably caused - by the fact that she didn't see her that day as her Mum was having a new care team coming in and my wife wanted to leave her for the day just to let the care team settle in.

                        Then she was delighted to remember that she had actually phoned her back at lunchtime. Her Mum, after a normal conversation, asked her to get her some bananas. "Small bananas" she specified and those were her actual last words to my wife.

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                          #37
                          Phone calls with parents

                          It's funny that this thread should appear when it did. My mother went missing the weekend before last. I wasn't very concerned as she does it frequently: when things start to upset her, she goes on a retreat – without telling anyone, of course, for maximum effect – but within a day or two she gives a sign that she's still alive. Not this time. No SMS, no money withdrawal, nothing.

                          Finally I received a text from my uncle the day before yesterday telling me that she's been staying in his caravan in Scotland. I'm relieved that she's safe, of course, and worried about her, and annoyed. But a part of me thinks I wouldn't mind if she did simply vanish.

                          When I was a child, she recognised that she couldn't look after me, and sent me to boarding school. Now she's the one who needs looking after, and she's terrified that I will send her away for someone else to deal with. And, frankly, that is what I ought to do.

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                            #38
                            Phone calls with parents

                            ursus arctos wrote: I miss calls like that terribly.
                            Yes. Although I had to change the text on my mobile to say "WARNING SPEAKER PHONE!" when they rang, as they'd a nasty habit of ringing from a speaker phone, referring to a third person, and then after I'd said something, pointing out that that third person was part of our call...

                            Comment


                              #39
                              Phone calls with parents

                              Dad died in 2009 and I still have moments when I hear or read something about the football club, and think "oh, need to tell Dad that next time we talk..." and then the thought kind of trails off into the middle distance and I remember that there are no more calls where we bitch and moan about "those clowns running the club" and "old man Goodall would be turning in his grave" and "that Graham Poll always was a prick", etc etc etc.

                              It's safe to say I miss the old bugger. Speak regularly to my Mum on the phone and via Skype - that's particularly good so that she can see and talk too her grandson, especially as she can't travel over from France as easily at the moment, due to the long and drawn-out procedure of moving house. They moved to France in 2004 with the aim of running a B&B out there, and since Dad died, Mum has done a great job of getting that business up and running. But now she's realised that it's all a bit much for one person to keep the B&B business going, and keep on top of everything that needs to be done to keep the house and garden shipshape. I've also noticed that she is getting older, and she's got no-one at home to bounce her (sometimes spot-on, and sometimes downright bloody daft) ideas off of, so my role has turned into that of a sounding board... which I'd be more happy to do if she actually took my bloody advice now and again. It's made more difficult (selfishly so) by the fact that we are also in the midst of making some major changes (quitting our jobs, giving serious thought to leaving Germany while VL jnr. is small enough) and trying to balance our own plans with Mum's continuous faffing on the phone gets a bit frustrating sometimes.

                              However, I still wouldn't miss those chats for the world and I'm delighted to have such a close relationship with my Mum that we can talk about pretty much anything. Totally different with my wife's side of the family: that lurches from the sublime to the ridiculous and back again (deaths, divorces, fisticuffs down at the farmyard, restraining orders, untreated depression, it's fucking spectacular) and to frank, the less contact we have there, the fucking better.

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                                #40
                                Phone calls with parents

                                When David Flitcroft was appointed as Bury manager, my mum rang me and asked why Freddie Flintoff was our new boss, because surely he's more suited to cricket than football.

                                Peter Kay has mined millions from stuff like this.

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                                  #41
                                  Phone calls with parents

                                  My phone calls with my mother have got a lot more difficult since her stroke. It hasn't affected her speech but her memory is shot. For a woman who was a keen amateur dramatist, English teacher and published playwright and author, it must be horrible to keep forgetting stuff.

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