In her wisdom, Mum taught me to roll with the punches, and reassured me that she’d always be there – even when I staggered in much the worse for wear
W
hat my mum taught me best is her expression: “Let’s play it by ear.” That might sound like an excuse for disorganisation and procrastination, but what she’s really saying at the end of every phone call is: “Life happens, plans change, and we’re always here for you – whatever time you decide to roll up.”
That’s her to a T – putting everyone else first. Even now, at 50, if I go out for a drink or to a gig with my brother and crash at my parents’ place, Mum will still stay up to be sure I’ve made it home safe.
My mum can yak for England. Hours on the phone – usually to her friend Glenda, sorting out the all-important pub arrangements – and then at the pub itself, to Glenda and anyone else within earshot, about goodness knows what, considering they’ve just spoken 30 minutes earlier. I don’t know how my dad copes. Like me, he’s happier in his inner musings, more likely to communicate via a thumbs-up emoji.
