A mother’s love

April 30, 2014

This article was written for Annabel & Grace, which is now part of Rest Less.

white lady (1)Really feel for you Annabel, with your youngest son being 6,075 miles away trying new life experiences (hopefully not hallucinogenic ones). Although, I thought the story he told you about drinking a White Lady at very high altitude (which apparently makes you hilariously tipsy) was just about the right level of experimentation – well, the boy’s got to have some fun. As you know, my son is also abroad. The other day he blithely told me he’d been in a French bar drinking “la fée verte” (the green fairy or absinthe as it is better known) and remained blase when I told him it was brainrot and was banned from 1915 until 2005. Why it is no longer considered a dangerously addictive psychoactive drug and is legal again is beyond me. Anyhow, I need to relax and remember all those naughty things I got up to at his age – life is for living.absinthe

When son and I hugged goodbye at the airport almost a month ago, a tear leaked out of my eye despite my best efforts and my heart was pounding because I knew I might not see him for a year or more. As it turns out, he is a communicator and so I haven’t really worried too much as he often texts, phones or Skypes – much to my relief.

But gosh I miss him. He is such fun to be around. Often smiling, always helpful and a giver of huge long hugs. And he makes me laugh…. once, after our lunch guests had (finally) left, I plonked, exhausted, on a sofa. Son came and sat down with me, stared at my face for a while and said reflectively “Ma, your skin is super soft – and a bit loose” (am definitely booking a consultation with a plastic surgeon now!)

Door to new worldAnyhow, better stop talking about him otherwise my eyes will start leaking again. And I don’t want you all to think I am a soppy mother. Of course, our children have to fly the nest and learn about life outside the protective envelope they call home. And I really want him to experience lots of things and see other parts of the world – just want him to be safe.  But I am not fretting unnecessarily – at the end of our last Skype, he told me he had been “jumped” at 2.30am that morning. “Jumped” I gasped “Do you mean mugged?”. “Yeah” he replied calmly “what an idiot. He was about half my size, came up to me and asked me something in French. I bopped him on the nose and ran for it.” At this juncture, he showed me a close up of his right hand and grazed knuckles. “But perhaps he was asking you for a light or directions?” I asked, thinking my son might be wanted by the gendarmerie for assault. “Don’t know Mum, I don’t speak French. And he was wearing a black balaclava.”

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