Friday 17 July 2009

fan club

Mum clasped her hands and beamed at me, besotted, gasping "Oh... aren't you handsome!"

That's a nice start to a visit.

I'd brought my laptop and a movie chronicling the city of Liverpool over the past 60 years or so. I'm not sure whether Mum genuinely recognised anything. I had thought she might respond to the sequences onboard the "Overhead Railway" (nicknamed "the Dockers' Umbrella"), which is where she and my Father first met, but the only point where she made a comment was when there was a shot of the New Brighton Lido. I'm confident that this was only because I've given her photos of herself as a 20-something, posing at the same Lido.




















Afterwards, when I set a slideshow of photos going, Mum was quick to recognise herself in most shots but didn't know either her Husband or Daughter. I find it requires a little tact to reintroduce one's Mother to one's Father. I do it in a matter-of-fact way, not registering the shock I still feel when Mum has forgotten him. It's clear that, until corrected, Mum is minded to consider ME her Husband.

I stayed overnight for the first time - there's a free guest suite which I found an oasis of calm. I'm going to start doing this in future, as it will allow me to spend longer with Mum instead of worrying about my return journey within a couple of hours of my arrival.

As I signed out at Reception the next morning, a lady with a Zimmer frame passed, screwed her hand forcefully into my behind and gave me a sailorly wink.

I've found my key fan base - 80 and female. I've been looking for love in ALL the wrong places, it seems...

7 comments:

citygirl said...

Sounds like you had a really nice visit! Excellent idea to bring the laptop. I used to time my visits around airing of Y&R because my mom watched that for a million years and often recognized the characters, which I found really neat.

I think staying over now & then will really pay off in the long run. You'll look back one day and be happy that you spent this time with your mom.

My mom also forgot my dad which almost killed me the first time this became apparent. I showed her a picture of him (with her & the 3 kids) and there was no recollection. She was also quite shocked to hear she had 3 kids. Despite all this, she always loved when my brother came to visit and happily recognized him as someone (either son or husband or someone she liked!).

Gavin said...

Whenever I "introduce" my Mom to a picture of my Dad, she always says the same thing, "Why didn't someone tell me?"

It would appear we attract the same demographic. If I were a straight man, I'd have more women than I could handle. The gays? Not so much! ;)

Greg said...

I think you'll do better in the coming months, as you get used to being a single man again - face it, you haven't really been in a position to let someone into your life for the last 4 years.

If you find someone who has a gay brother, I hope you'll think of me ;)

Gavin said...

G--

I wish getting out would solve the problem but I know better. I've never had luck with men. Back in the 90s, I'd go out every weekend and no one would even look at me let alone talk to me. When I was in NYC a few weeks ago, it was like I was invisible. I was going to post a video of "Mr. Cellophane" from Chicago after that. Odd that I had more in-depth conversations with the people waiting in line with me for theater tix than I did with the people I walked with in the parade.

Greg said...

Ugh, that brings back bad memories. I've had the same experience. I can't actually remember the last time I went out. I think it might have been sometime in 2002. I've just come back from town after watching a movie and felt distinctly uncomfortable in the hubbub of a Saturday evening - give me instead a quiet cabin on a mountain, a sunset and a good book! If some shaggy introspective hippy singer-songwriter decides to turn up and share my hot tub then that'd be great, but it's not a deal-breaker if he doesn't.

The Mr Cellophane reference is a good one (if only I could get John C. Reilly's performance out of my head). I've often thought that I'd make an excellent spy because I'm evidently completely invisible, too.

David Schantz said...

You saying, "Mum is minded to consider ME her Husband." reminds me of the time my Wife Sue (Who now has early on-set)and I spent caring for her Grandmother. Grandma thought her eldest Son was her Husband. She even called him by his deceased Fathers name. She didn't like that woman (Her Daughter-In-Law)she saw in his car.

God Bless America, God Save The Republic.

Anonymous said...

Hey Greg, have tracked you down following your comment on P&T's Airstream blog. Send me an email and we'll hopefully catch up to chat about stuff... as ever there is more to it than is in the public eye.

Reading your last couple of entries and turning 40 tomorrow, I can understand where you are coming from ;-)

Andrew