[Torch_Man]

Of Mothers & Sons


You know that something is wrong when your once wonderful child starts talking to you. Now it is common knowledge that parents and children don’t communicate with each other and either sulk or scream when faced with even the idea of trying. So it’s understandable that I was unconcerned when my spittle spitting baby grew up to be a screaming, tense and rather rude young man. In fact, to tell the truth, I was over the moon about it. The more he and I shouted, screamed and generally shook the rafters, the more I was convinced I had fulfilled my role of being a good mother. My friends praised me, my husband blamed me, my mother-in-law and I hated each other, what more did I want? Nothing.

This changed however and I was suddenly and cruelly reduced to the wreck (social and personal) that I am now. It happened on an absolutely beautiful day, the kind that made my heart sing. The sky was grey with impending rain, the leaves on every bush within sight had been ripped off by the harsh wind wiping round the house and I couldn’t read the temperature on the thermometer. By mid afternoon I had managed to not do the housework, except for my son’s room, to burn the dinner apart from the brussel sprouts and to singe a hole in my husband’s favourite shirt. My son arrived as usual at around lunch time, slammed the door louder than ever and went upstairs. Following my usual pattern I gave him five minutes to lock the door and then headed after him.