THE COUGAR DIARIES ‘IRISH’ WHY DOES LIFE HAVE TO BE SO HARD?

August 2013

My mind went into overdrive. A week on my own ,I wonder if there was any chance he could get here. The thought of us spending a few days together without interruption was more than flesh and blood could bear. As usual self doubt crept in. Would he want to come? I mean he was hardly just up the road. He had to get on a plane for gods sake.! And although the giant was away for a week I had .My Birthday trip to Butlin’s already booked from Friday to Sunday, so that left Tuesday (when Jack flies out ) until Friday midday ..nearly four whole days.. I mulled it over turning the possibilities over in my head. I must have worded and reworded the text inviting him over a million times and then with my finger hovering over the send button deleted the lot.

One evening at the end of August I wrote an elaborate lengthy text outlining my ideas for his visit. I had decided that the only way to find out was ask the question ? The last 6 months had taken their toll. My mums accidents my brothers death and work being a slog. I felt I had put my own life on hold and needed to get the balance back. I had spent months visiting hospitals attending funerals and dealing with bad news. I needed some joy! Where was the joy ?

When you are forced to look death in the face and deal with its repercussions it makes you question your own existence.  I would often ask myself “why are we here ?” “What is life about really?” “What was the point of it all ?” Seeing the struggle my mum was going through on a daily basis just to exist in her nineties, I wondered if it was all worth it. I mean if that’s what we have to look forward to a small insular life of pain and difficulty spending hours on your own looking back over your life with nothing whatsoever to look forward to apart from death!  Why carry on ? 

My mum it seemed was not giving up so easily . With tenacious determination she struggled through dealing with her grief and pain as best she could. My dad the only love of her life , a love forged in a time when one man was all you needed. Had died nearly twenty years ago. We all thought that she would never survive ..she would fade away without him but she was made of sterner stuff. Now she was having to deal with the loss of a child and the pain of two broken hips and still she wanted to carry on. It would seem to be human nature to cling to life..even a terrible one!

So with old age hurtling towards me at an alarming rate of knots I was determined to squeeze every last bit of happiness and joy out of what time I had left. Before the rocking chair beckoned. My current quota for joy was all wrapped up in the form of a 6ft 3ins Irishman with a winning smile and a voice that could melt the hardest of hearts. With this in mind I read through my text just once more and with a churning stomach pressed the send button.

Now the waiting game would begin. I knew from experience that an immediate reply was about as likely as me winning the Bloody Lottery!!

 

Still Waiting…

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