So Close

It’s been an emotional day today. Firstly, I’ve discovered that my Mum was even closer than I had thought to those bombs in Amman last night. I knew she had been on holiday in Jordan until 24 hours before and I knew she had been in Petra, in the south of the country, but it turns out she was also in Amman for a few days. Not only that, but she was in the Days Inn hotel last week; one of the very hotels that was blown up last night. It’s quite possible that people she saw last week – holidaymakers and staff - have now been killed. That’s too close for comfort and it makes me shudder. My sympathies are with the people of Jordan and everyone else who has been affected.

Generations of Love

In the same phone call today, my Mum told me the news I really hadn’t wanted to hear. Let me just rewind a little. A year ago, the second last of my Grandad’s siblings died – his sister, my Great Aunt Irene. (My Grandad died in 2000.) After Irene’s funeral, I chatted to the last remaining one of the 13 children in my Grandad’s family, Great Aunt Marjorie. She was lively, entertaining, wonderful and nearly 90 years old. She told me on that day that my Great-grandmother, her mother, had actually been French, not just able to speak French, which is as much as I had known from my Grandad, her brother. After the funeral, my sister and I said we should definitely go and see Auntie Marjorie sometime soon. After all, she only lived in Coventry, ten miles away from each of us. She had so many stories to tell, and I should take my tape recorder, in my role as our family’s genealogist, while she still has full control of her faculties. I did nothing about going to see her, except for thinking about it quite often.

Ten days ago, just before my Mum went away, she told me that Marjorie was in hospital, but it wasn’t life-threatening. “We must go and see her when you get back,” I said, “we keep putting it off.” We would, agreed my Mum.

Too late. She died on Saturday. She had leukemia. How can you have leukemia and not know, and die within two weeks? Life is so unfair. I am not only upset that she has died, I’m really, really angry with myself for not going to see her while we had the chance. She was the last of a generation. Thirteen children, all gone. And she was lovely.

Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today.

I’ll never forgive myself for not getting off my lazy arse and going to see her. All I can say is, if you have elderly relatives, make the most of them while you have the chance. Regret is a terrible thing, and I'm currently full of it, and quite tearful tonight. Goodnight.


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