A tale of two mothers...

So it is mother's day and so what? Mothers are often shit, they are really good at letting you down, expecting some sort of respect without giving it back, love without loving. Some mothers don't deserve the label without the add on of 'fucker'.

Do I sound bitter? Well, that's because I am. In every book, I ever read as a kid mothers were such wonderful people. They looked after you, rubbed your leg better when you fell over, made you packed lunches, told you stories, sang you songs, cuddled you, and they did it not because they were expected to, but because they loved you. 

Oh, I know that mothers are just people, I've watched Long Lost Family too (bloody awful programme), but really? Dump your kid and then wait for them to find you? Yes, that works. Mother's can be selfish, self-interested, stupid people, so no, I don't sign up for the cult of mum at all.

I'm pleased for all of you out there with a great mum who you love and who loves you back. I'm sorry for all of you out there who have lost a mum they loved and miss, particularly today. I'm jealous of you all, deeply jealous and upset that I don't feel like that, can't feel like that even if I try to focus on the good things because there weren't any really. It makes me feel bad as if I did something wrong. Who knows perhaps I did. Maybe I cried too much as a baby, was a naughty toddler. Perhaps I was willful, disobedient, downright nasty at times. Hey, who am I kidding I was all of those things, but I was also the small boy who saved his pocket money to buy a blue glass bowl that I'd seen in a gift shop so that I could buy it for Mother's Day. I don't know if my mum liked it or not, it was hard to tell with her, she was so locked in her own self-obsessed world.

I don't know what my sisters feel about her, I've never asked and we don't talk anyway. I thought a mother was meant to build a family unit, keep it together, make it strong, love and nurture and warmth, but all we were was five individuals without much in common living in the same house. At least that's the way I remember it. Perhaps, it really is me.

Anyway, I won't let today pass without saying the other thing I came here to say. Much later in my life, I did have a mum, my wife's mum Joan. Oh, she was a pain in the arse, silly at times, bloody-minded, distant in some ways, broken in others, we fell out, we argued, but I had no doubt that she loved Gaynor and I think that she came to love me a little. She certainly adored our daughter. She was full of love but found it so hard to show it, instead she did it in lots of little ways. Joan, I am missing the socks and pants, the whiskey, and I'm using all those 'free gift' tools you gave to me (free gifts my arse, you must have thought me stupid), the Jersey lily you brought me back from holiday flowers most years, I'm even missing coming out to retune your telly or change a light bulb at ten o'clock at night. By the way, you were right about that bathroom tap, it was dodgy all along. I think of you most days and miss you, you silly old bat, I hope you know that.

So that's it, Mother's Day. Have a good one, don't visit, but pick up the phone or talk through the window. Don't visit their grave - stay away - but remember them for a few minutes quietly.

Happy Mother's Day, you still remind me of the queen, Queenie.