I Don't Dream...

... or, if I do, I never remember them the next day. But last night I had a really disturbing dream (or dreams, because I think I woke up in the middle of it / them)...

I don't really remember how it started, just that all of a sudden I was back in what had been Mum & Dad's bedroom at our last house, and I was lying in their bed. I don't know what age I was, but I knew that Mum & Dad were both dead.

And then Mum was there, lying in the bed beside me, and suddenly it felt like this was the real world, and I was in the new house, and Mum wasn't dead... coz she felt so real, like I could reach out and touch her. And then we were back at the other house, and Dad appeared, and he was trying to tell me that Mum couldn't really be there, because she was dead... but he couldn't see that he was the same. He just kept on telling me, "That's not really your Mum... she's not here".

Next I was aware, I was in like an old theatre or something, and the ballerina Darcey Bussell was on stage, behind a closed curtain, dancing a very melancholic dance with a small child with her... Darcey was wearing a dark blue, or almost black, dress with a long net skirt, and was heavily pregnant (I remember being amazed that she could hold her balance so well with a bump), and was lit by a solitary white spotlight. A lone violin was playing sadly somewhere from backstage. The theatre was empty.

Then I was in a small room, like a poorly-furnished kitchen, and a woman was sitting at a table, her head bowed. The room was dark, and a small child (maybe the same one that was with Darcey) was stood beside her, head bowed as well. They seemed to be in old-fashioned clothes, and were obviously poor. I walked up to the woman to ask where I was, and was shocked when she lifted her head... Her eyes were closed, and her eyelashes were like long yellow feathers (for want of a better way to describe them) that reached down to her chin... the effect being like curtains. The child was the same, and neither spoke to me... just opened their eyes, looked at me, then closed their eyes and bowed their heads again.

I think this was the point I woke up.

Strange and disturbing...

Cheque It In, Cheque It Out...

Today should have been a bit exciting, and a relief to me... I got a text from my brother this morning to say that he had got a cheque from the lawyers for his share of Dad's estate, and that mine would probably be waiting at home for me.

Now, it's not a HUGE inheritance, but it would have been enough to buy a new cooker to replace my 15-odd-year-old one that trips out my entire fuseboard if I turn on the small ring at the front, and to allow a cushion for emergencies while my bankruptcy (which is in progress) means that I can't get credit of any form... But I still had to report it to the Trustees over-seeing my application... which I did almost as soon as I heard.

And what did they say?

"We'll have that, thank you very much!"

So, in short, I won't get a penny.

Poor Dad... He would be so disappointed. He was so careful with his money, not treating himself to anything apart from a rifle among the books in the second-hand shops for so many years so that he had some money put aside to make sure his children were taken care of when he was no longer around (although none of us are "children" anymore)... and now it's all been such a waste. I wish he and Mum had spent the money on themselves and enjoyed it, and not this. I would rather have been left nothing but a couple of ornaments or a book of Dad's to remember them by.

I'm sorry, Dad.

A Bit Of Closure...

Mum & Dad's gravestone has just gone up...

(I obscured some of the information, just in case).

Happy Birthday, Mum...

I wish you were still here.

It's kind of comforting to know that you have Dad with you now, though... You're not alone on your birthday...

Love you forever.

xxx

Bits & Pieces...

You know, as I'm working through the old photos and stuff that Mum & Dad kept, I'm finding things that I was never really showed before... old letters and things from when we were kids - and I'd like to share this one with you...

It's a letter that Mum sent to Dad 2 days after I was born (I was born in Aberdeen, because there were some worries about Mum's blood group and things - and Dad had the family to look after, so he couldn't be with her) - It's not anything mind-blowing, or of great social and political importance... It's just a bit of my history (like my curl I showed you)...

(If you can't read the letter, click on the picture, and it should open in a new window - and it should be bigger, so it's readable).