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So in the very near future, I’m coming back to England.
The good news [for England] is that it’s not permanently, but it is for at least a month … which is longer than I’ve lived there since 1995.
The bad news is why I’m coming back.
As I mentioned a few weeks ago, my wonderful, brilliant, fantastic Mum is having an operation.
A big operation.
Even though the DR’s have assured me that the risk is small, I’m still obviously concerned.
Apart from the fact she’s my Mum – my beloved, precious Mum – I don’t want her to feel worried, vulnerable or frail and I know they’ll all be things she’ll feel and I hate that I can’t change that.
So I’m coming home to look after her. Hold her hand. Tell her how much I love her. Introduce her to her grandson.
It’s times like this that I question some of the decisions I have made in my life.
Should I have ever left England?
Should I have ever left Nottingham?
To be honest, these are questions that have nagged away at me from before I left the country so it’s not like it’s something new plus the fact is I did go so it’s a nonsensical discussion and yet my Mum – despite her predicament – still has the grace to say she’s proud of what I’ve done and the decisions I’ve made.
It’s a reminder of what the definition of unconditional love really is and I feel incredibly lucky to have her – and my Dad – as my parents.
So if you could give my Mum a little bit of thought today, I would be grateful.
Not because of her operation but because she is a wonderful, special person and this World needs as many of those in it as we can get.
Love you Mum.
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