Freddie

I called my Mum Freddie from when I was about sixteen.  So it is Freddie's birthday tomorrow.  If she still lived she would be 107.  Of course if she had lived I would be immured in a psychiatric hospital.   Still as I get older I realize that holding a grudge about a person who died twenty-seven years ago is perhaps taking things a little too far.  I am like the traditional elephant who forgets nothing, so  I really need to let go.  I read somewhere that the reason parents can push all our buttons is because they installed them.  How apropos!   One must always ask oneself were our parents trained psychologists or teachers.  Did they mean to curse our lives by just being their own flawed selves.  The answer is no.  Mum did not set out to be negative, she thought she was doing the right thing.  If we were to live in other people's homes, (where she worked),  I had to learn to be quiet and do exactly as I was told.  I had to learn that children could not have everything because we all have to learn at some stage or another that life is not always fair.  I learned all my lessons exceedingly well so I am now unlearning all the things that are not useful to me today.  Tomorrow on Freddie's birthday I am going to do absolutely everything that she would have hated and enjoy the hell out of it.  Happy birthday Freddie, you old bat.

I do have a rather risque verse that I read somewhere, I will however, have to leave out the swear word:-

They .... you up your mum and dad
They may not mean to but they do
They give all the faults they had
And then some extra just for you.