The appropriate reaction is:
MY MOTHER CALLED!!!
Well, Jeff called to wish a Merry Christmas and thank me for the cards, they were very nice.
So I asked, “Is she there?” (With tone implying the cat’s mother.)
“Yes, I’ll put her right on.”
It was a short call, one of festive niceties.
By her very speaking, I’m out of her doghouse.
She’s drawn a line, she said.
After reading my letter again, I’ve taken things out of context.
She’s sure she said in her letter “this doesn’t necessarily mean”, and it is through her ‘no necessary meaning’ I get our wires crossed.
No more said.
Back to festive niceties before her, “I love you.”
“Hm.” My, “I love you too.”
Like I said, short call.
So, is that it?
A line has been drawn because of lacking context?
Mine, of course!
Her context is perfectly formed.
I’m just going to say it, I told you my poem was lies! All vile, vicious lies! I’m adding words in her mouth ’cause I can, (MUAHAHAHA) I’m out of context!
Or maybe it was the tannoy. Maybe her slam slam slam slam slam, and her subsequent need to apologise, has a context far beyond my abilities to grasp.
Or, could it be, my accountability for others? Maybe the constant stream of accusations laid at my door, and all my many punishments, has a point to it different to what I’ve noticed.
Who knows? I’m out of context!
My whole life, out of poxy context.
Well, at least I’m not bitter.
I have investigated her claim of “this doesn’t necessarily mean” and her used phrase is “that does not mean”.
“I love you very much and nothing, whatever happens, will change that — but that does not mean that I love the things you do or say.”
It’s funny how she’s changed her phrase.
I love you but I don’t love the things you do
Is now, and has always been
I love you but this doesn’t necessarily mean that I love the things you do
Isn’t this quite similar to my phrase?
I love you but I don’t always love the things you do
Miraculous, that. But maybe I stole it from her and shortened it. Maybe, that’s what she’s always been saying and for these 33 years, I’ve never noticed.
Maybe I’m still so blind to it that I can’t see the word ‘necessarily’ written in her letter.
When it is there in black and white!
Real small. You’ve got to look real hard — ‘necessarily’ is the cross on ‘not’s t.
I’m sorry, but if I’m perfectly honest, I would’ve rathered Christmas stayed as a clash in the diary.
This all stinks of denial and ‘do as I say, not as I do’.
And although it’s very nice that my letter has been sufficiently received to rekindle conversation, na-ha honey, I’m not ‘aving it! And no I won’t. I wrote a poem back in March that somewhat clarifies my refusal.
I know, from now until next time, I’ll be in her good books.
We will return to the same old roll until I’m nasty again, when oh I’ll get told. I’ll get the blame for someone, and you mark my words, her phrase will come out with no ‘necessarily’ in it. She’ll damn well mean her ‘not’ and spit it.
I’m glad she’s found a way to draw a line, but this whole episode began with her rudeness after that tannoy. If my mother wants to carry on as normal then, since that’s what we were doing anyway, she can apologise for slamming the phone down on me.
Jeez, why is this so fucking difficult?!
I know why.
She’s one of those who’d die if they even whisper “I’m sorry”.
As someone who has apologised for a hell of a lot, I can testify that I have never once died saying ‘sorry’. I came close but that was only because I was no longer apologising for myself.
The worst that could happen is that she’ll choke. The word ‘sorry’ would get stuck in her throat and Jeff would be on hand to perform the Heimlich manoeuver. He’s not as nimble as in his younger days, and he’s hard of hearing, but I’m sure he’ll notice.
Personally, if I was there, I’d tell her to cough it up. “Come on darling, it’s like deepthroat — you’ve got to work through it.”
I’d be very encouraging.
Her turning blue.
You know, maybe I am nasty.
They speak of visions upon a touch and maybe this is what she saw!
Me waiting impatiently, watching her choke on the words “I’m sorry”.