Thread: Hello everyone
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Unread 05-14-2017, 02:11 PM   #5414
Senior Member
Posts: 3,249

Good afternoon everyone. Bright blessings to you all.

My dearest, gifted Alexis, i know all too well Re "spice" has ruined the chance of Jakey boys rehab in prison. I do not even know his name now. My sweetest, dearest Lost Dog, seeing your name is all the letter i need and my dearest Italiano Soapdish......Mothers day eh?

My everything dear R Lee is seeing his Mother today. A more dutiful man you would be hard pushed to find. His duty comes from love in my opinion. So he also recognises i do not have a Mother.

Well....i must have had one once....and so i did. I have no idea to this day what she looked like, as my experience was so young, my upbringing that of privilege......there was never any "need" to meet your Mother. If i did, it was for punishment and "goodnights".

My very wealthy Father at the time went away on business alot....THAT was a chance to sneak up on my Mother. She was a raging alcoholic, and when my Father was away...i was allowed to pour her drink. The bit that was left....i drank. I used to stand on a chair in the kitchen....dragged over to the fridge with my own fair get my Mothers beer....and pour it for her. I felt as tall as i really was on that chair.

I would walk for seemingly "ages" to bring it to her, so large was our "pad"....and at first she would touch my face and ask me "who are you?".....then i thought we "were talking". She was brilliant on the piano, so i would say...."listen...listen....listen to this".....i would play something and she would become so very.....very angry. The piano stool was way, way bigger than me....and it took "panache" for a little'un like me to hop....skip and jump to land on it so i could play. Getting off it took holding the piano keys infront of me and letting myself down.

I suppose my mother was about 30ft away. She kept shouting..."shut up....shut up....shut up"....i didn't really know her so felt a tad "iffy" so thought i best get off the piano stool and make haste my escape. I slipped off the stool...cracked my head on the way down....i lay on the floor, and i suppose i must have been knocked out some as the next thing i knew was my Mother standing over me.....raging at me....spit coming from her mouth while she was punching me and an au pair girl trying to calm her down. She punched the au pair girl, (whom i adored), and i curled up as tight as i could under the piano stool. I got away with that one.

Mothers day.


Folk have said to me on my journey..." must be terrible not having a mum, a dad, a family"....especially at Christmas.

Bollocks. Depends what family you got.

So i got no mum.......i have a 1000 Mothers. Let me tell you about a few.

I once told you a tale of when i went to bed under a tree as boy, and woke up a man. That tree was my Mother. When i was young and thought if you smoked a would help you keep i can i describe this? know huge car parks.......and when you come out of them from say the 6th floor, you follow the "exit" and the road goes round, round, and round, and round?.......there are lights on the way down, i have slept under them thinking they would keep me warm. Those lights.....were my Mother.

I have walked down totally bleak dark country lanes at 4am......shitting myself....of what?.......the dark.......just fear itself. I walk a few steps further and the clear as any summers day sun....pops out from behind the firs, and i realise i am coming out of the woods, the moon lighting my way.....there was my Mother....right there.

I was about 14 this time round, the next time i met my Mother.

I had been on the street for a good couple of years now....cocky little shit......thought i knew it all. 1 night i was at Charing Cross rd Station in London, blagging and making food. I got to cocky, far to cocky, and was set upon and given a hiding to this day i will never forget.

What i can remember is realising my mouth did not work....i could not speak.....lying in a really weird position, and soaked in my own blood. I felt no pain whatsoever. None at all. To this day, if you had just let me go to sleep then, i would still be snoozin' like a gooden.

This is what i heard.

"Hello little'un.....what's happened here then hey? Stay with me. I can help. Don't try to speak. Let's just get you comfy"

That paramedic was my Mother.....right there.

Well i did a couple of weeks in hospital for the outcome and the paramedic came back to see me in hospital. He got me put into a childrens home in Hammersmith in West London. I did nearly 3 months there. He did that. He was my Mother.

I wonder what ever happened to him.

My ole soul mate Gruff....(Gareth) who had his head taken off by an axe.......he was my Mother.

1 day, we are on our travels.....happen to be on Portugal.......we live in Devon in "know the sea".........yeah right.......

So Tryn then was drinking to purgery, knew a South African who owned a offski i wentii. It was about 2am, i was absolutely bollockeds.....been playing the piano all night and thought it would be a cracking idea to "have a dip".

Portugal's coast is not to be messed with.....well i didn't know that. What an experience.

The ocean so strong.....steps down to ocean about...hmmm...200 yrds apart........and i thought it would be really, really clever to see if i could run....while the swell was going see if i could make it....before the waves crashed back into the wall.

Off i went.

I did not make it. The wave came over the top of me....hit the wall....and dragged me back out with it.

No problem.....until i realise how far i have been dragged out. ****ing 200 yrds.

OH SHIT!!!!!!

Behind me i can hear this enormous swell, and i know if i do not make that 200 yards....i am done for.

I SCREAM........GRUFFFFFF!!!!!! ........i see him running along the top of the wall taking his clothes off to come and save me.....just about to throw himself into an angry sea...........too late....i'm gone....

I run, which is not easy drunk...or 200 yrds out on sand that is laughing, and the wave that previously came over my head and dragged me out to my death now landed BEHIND me and launched me like a projectile into safety. I slammed into the wall.....gasping for breath.....and with Gruffs feet just wet, he pulled me back up the steps and sat with me.

When his life was taken from him, i learnt he could not swim.

He was my Mother.

The Great Man Larry, he was the Mother of them all.

Yes it is Mothers day.

Mothers day is love, unconditional love. When you fall, when you grasp at something you know is not there.....and it that is where my Mother has always been.

I so wish i knew my own Mother. However, it has meant i have known so many other Mothers. I am not Motherless. Indeed i have been accused of "mothering folk" for goodness sake.

I like mothering, i like mothers day, for me, the meaning, unfortunately does not have a face. It is very difficult to remember what someone looks like if you were young, and on the ground.

I know what it means though.

When i am struggling with my breathing.....i wobble and try to sigh.....Rolo comes to my side and comforts me. I have his love, and have got more....ohhhh....more Mothers than you can shake a stick at.

Would be nice to have me own though. Grant you that.

Mothers day in Italy is when they historically get rid of the "deadwood".....indeedy..... and give "disrespecting Mum" as the reason. For sure, the Italians are brutal, yet at least you know what date it is all going to happen!

Hey what dearest Soapdish.......keep yer head down today....don't answer da phone.....and certainly don't order any pizza.

A Mother does not judge, she guides and loves.

Have i done any good in pretending i am not missing mine?

Addiction Survivors is my Mother.

Happy Mothers day.

Be peaceful, be healthy and be strong. Loveness to all.
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