The Musings Of An Opinionated Sod [Help Me Grow!]


Happy Birthday Mum …

Yesterday would have been my Mum’s birthday.

My Mum’s 87th birthday.

That means she has been gone 4 years and frankly, that seems incredible.

So much has happened in that time …

From moving countries twice.

To changing jobs twice.

To selling our family home to buy a new one.

And while I am in a much better place than I was after the tragic days that she died, I still am prone to being hit by moments where her loss is almost overwhelming for me.

I wish she could have met Otis for real.

I still remember her words when I called her minutes after he was born.

I was incredibly emotional and she was so tender towards me.

Making sure I was OK, Jill was OK and Otis.

Asking if the baby crying in the background was her grandson.

Telling me how happy she was and how happy she was for us.

How she loved the name Otis.

And while she was alone in her home in Nottingham – wishing madly that she was with us – she still told me to go and be with Jill and my son because she was the most compassionate, thoughtful person I have ever known.

While Mum saw Otis on video chat, sent me countless emails/SMS’s about him and – for a brief while – was in the same room together [though sadly it was after she had passed away] … the fact is they never were together in the flesh and I would have loved to have seen that happen.

To see her face as he called her Nona.

To watch her smile he wrapped his arms around you and gave her a big hug and kiss.

To look at my Mum reading her first grandchild a story or walking him through the gardens and explaining the flowers or just watching him run around like a tsunami and then look at me with that look in her eye that tells me everything.

How he’s perfect.

How she loves him so much.

How she is so proud of me and Jill.

How happy she is right at that very moment.

That would be the best present for her – not to mention for me – and while none of those things will be able to happen for real, I will think about them tonight when I’m home and giving Otis a big hug and kiss, because while there are many things I can do a whole lot better at, my Mum [and Dad] taught me one thing I am very good at.

How to love.

Happy birthday Mum, I miss you so much.

Hope you and Dad are laughing and holding hands.

Rx



It’s Time To Say Goodbye …

So the time has come to close the door on the house I grew up in for one final time.

I’ve written the reasons for why this is happening in the past – as I have the reasons why the house was, and always will be, be so important to me – but it is the beginning of a new chapter for my family and my Mum and Dad would be so happy.

Anyway, we went to visit her one final time.

While the garden remained pretty much as my parents left it – thanks to us having a gardener visit every fortnight for the past 4 years [and we’ve taken a couple of things from there to plant in our new home so we will forever be connected] – going into the actual house was a very different feeling.

Part of it was because there was nothing in it.

No furniture.

No people.

No noise.

And so the overall effect was the house felt smaller … more fragile … and yet, as I walked through each room, there were so many emotions going through me.

As I watched my son run through the place holding his toys, I could see me – probably at his age – doing the same.

I saw where my Raleigh Grifter was waiting for me in 1989, on Christmas day.

I could see where my Dad – and then Mum – would sit in the lounge, on their rocking chair.

I could hear my Dad shouting ‘it’s ready’ from the kitchen our Saturday Beefburger was ready for scoffing down.

I could see my old clock radio when I was in the ‘small bedroom’ and my big stereo when I got ‘upgraded’ to the bigger room.

I could see the bed Mum and Dad slept in … where I would sit by them and chat throughout my time in the house.

Mum and Dad’s bedroom was especially poignant to me.

Regardless what happens in the future, it will always be ‘their room’ as they used for the entire time they were alive [and I was around].

Below is a photo of their empty bedroom that I took.

I’ve superimposed another photo of Otis that I took on the day after Mum died.

He’d just flown with his Mum overnight from Shanghai and he’s lying on the side Mum used to sleep on, looking at a painting of a mother and her child that hung above her bed.

He never got to meet her in person – he was supposed to a couple of weeks later when she recovered from her operation.

Alas it didn’t work out that way which is why this photo is so precious to me and why I feel, in a weird way, they did get to be together – hugging each other tight – if only for a second.

Another thing that got me, was when I went to the garage.

When we were having the house refurbished because we wanted to help a family live in a good area, we wrote a message on the wall about how much that house meant to us.

Well, when we checked at the weekend, we saw the tenants had left their own note and I have to say – it got to me because while my life is moving on, it was built in those 4 walls and I hope it does the same for anyone and everyone who lives there.

Thank you Mum.

Thank you Dad.

Thank you house … you will always be treasured.



Love Is …
October 7, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Jill, Love

… that moment you wake up and – thanks to Facebook’s “memories” feature – realise it’s your wedding anniversary, so desperately look around the house for a card and find one Otis bought for a friend.

And they say romance is dead.



Why My Wife Is Perfect For Me …
October 3, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, America, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Deutsch, England, Jill, London, Love

A few weeks ago, the lovely Leigh – a planner I worked with at Deutsch LA – came to London.

It was wonderful to see her and we caught up on a bunch of gossip.

As normal, I took an instagram of her and titled it,

“Everyone in the restaurant is wondering what the hell she is doing with me”.

Sure, it was a bit self-depreciating, but it also was true.

Or at least it felt that way to me.

However, later in the evening when I checked the post, I saw my wonderful wife Jill had left a comment that managed to both add and remove various paranoia of mine with a comment so evil genius, that it makes me want to marry her all over again.

Nice one Jill … ignoring the fact way too many friends liked it.



McMassesOfBacon …
October 2, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Comment, Family, Jill, Otis

A few weeks ago, we were driving to Nottingham very early.

We’d only been on the road about 30 minutes and the atmosphere in the car was toxic.

Everyone was snappy with each other.

Everyone was whining.

Everyone wanted to be somewhere else.

Anyway, like some contrived ad – I saw a McDonalds enter into view over the hill and decided to pull in.

I was making the assumption that we were either tired or hungry and even if it was neither, I was confident that putting a McMuffin of any description in our mouths would at least stop us being assholes to each other.

As it happened, we were hungry because within a few bites of food, the mood lightened dramatically … but not nearly as much as when Jill got her McBaconMuffin thing.

Why?

Because it looked like this.

I don’t know what made the people behind the counter put so much bacon in it, but for all their generosity, the fact it looked like the food equivalent of someone at the beach who hadn’t “groomed” ensured it wasn’t eaten but it was replaced by laughs.

So whoever made this porn food delight, thank you for making the rest of our journey a whole lot less eventful.



Society Is Growing Kids Faster Than Battery Hens …

One of the things that is a beautiful nightmare for parents is watching the speed of their children grow up.

At each stage of their development, you think they have reached ‘peak perfect’ and you want them to stay that way forever … but you can deal with their growth because they bring an even more delightful element into their behaviour and, as a byproduct, your relationship.

It’s utterly, utterly magical.

That said, it still doesn’t stop the fact it all happens in the blink of an eye, so while you want to always encourage their development, you just wish it would slow down a little.

The reason I say this is that I recently read about a graphic designer was so appalled at the cover of a young girls magazine, that they decided to release what they thought it should be.

Now I must admit, my first impression to this story was that the graphic designer was probably a self-righteous individual who wanted kids to grow up in the same conditions as they did.

That was until I saw this …

The original cover of the magazine is on the left, their version is on the right.

I’m going to ignore their cover – because you can read how it came about and the story behind their idea, here – however the magazine they redesigned is a real magazine and, according to their own website, supposedly stands for:

Girls’ Life (GL) magazine was founded in August 1994 (yes, we’re ancient, we know) by Karen Bokram. Since then, GL has grown from a 23-year-old’s pipe dream project to a best-selling and award-winning platform for tween and teen girls.

Tweens and teens.

An incredibly impressionable age.

Now look at that cover.

Look at those story headlines.

Now I appreciate I am an old, white male … but they seem to place huge subliminal pressure and expectations on young women.

Wake Up Pretty.

Dream Hair.

Fashion you need to own.

Boyfriends.

If young women want to explore any of those things, then that is wonderful, but I wonder how much of it is because they are being made to feel that way rather than being something they are naturally interested in. Of course, there is something wonderful about learning to develop and grow … but this seems less about personal growth and more about playing to stereotypes – and advertising dollars – so that they can then be judged by broader society.

Of course parents have a big role to play in managing the environment their children play in, but at a time where the World is finally waking up to fighting the prejudice, oppression and stereotypes women have had to face for centuries, it becomes increasingly difficult to achieve this when the World they are surrounded by continues to push an agenda of compliance … especially when they’re titles supposedly designed for the betterment of young women.

Of course this is not limited to content for young women, young boys also have stereotypes of behaviour and aspiration shoved down their throats that are unrealistic and add incredible pressure to their development.

I get children will always grow up too fast for parents, but it is scary how even that isn’t fast enough for media outlets.

What makes it worse is so many of them say their ‘purpose‘ is to inspire brilliance in their readership.

Girls Life specifically say their role is ‘dedicated to informing, inspiring and entertaining girls around the globe—and that includes everything from starting your business (we LOVE spotlighting smart, successful teens) to putting up with periods to styling a personal look you’ll love’.

Which is why I look at the Graphic Designer who screwed with their cover and say ‘well done’ … because I now realise what they did was not act like a judgmental parent, but simply show Girls Life how their cover should look if they are serious about what they claim they represent.



Happy Birthday To My Wonderful Dad …
September 17, 2019, 6:15 am
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Birthday, Comment, Dad, Daddyhood, Family, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Otis

Happy birthday Dad.

Oh how I wish you were around …

You’d be 81.

EIGHTY ONE!

I’m not sure what is more amazing … that or the fact it means you’ve been gone 21 years.

We would have had such a lovely day.

Now we are in England, we would have come down for the weekend and spent a few days there – organizing stuff, from a cake to a present.

Oh the present would be hard.

I’d want to get you something you have always wanted but could never get, let alone justify.

In a perfect world it would be an old Rolls Royce … in yellow … with white wall wheels.

I can see you now driving to Asda in it, laughing at the beautiful ridiculousness of it all.

God I’d love to have got you that … though I imagine that attitude would change quite quickly once I see how much the bloody thing cost to keep on the road.

But I’d still try and do it for you.

What you and Mum sacrificed for me will never be forgotten … will never be taken for granted.

I would do anything to be able to sit with you and talk about the choices and decisions I’ve made.

To see the corners of your beautiful blue eyes turn up with happiness knowing I am now ‘back home’.

I would love to give you a huge, huge hug and a big kiss on the cheek as I say “Hello Dad” … even though I know you would brush me aside so you could say hello to Jill and then your wonderful grandson.

Oh I wish you could have met them, you’d have absolutely loved them.

I can hear you asking them cheeky questions – at my expense.

The mischievous grin.

The dimple.

The tongue curling up on your top teeth to signify you know you have been a rascal.

For Mum to walk in and give you that look of loving exasperation as she says, “Oh Roger”.

There is almost nothing I would love more than to be with you today, though I suppose while I am not able to be physically with you, I am emotionally which leaves me with this.

I love you Dad.

I miss you so much.

A few weeks ago we went to visit Silvana’s flat in Bayswater and I started crying IN THE STREET.

OK, so I hadn’t been there for around 28 years, so seeing a place that contains so many memories of us being together really knocked me for six.

But in a lovely way.

I could see where you used to park … I could see us running up the steps to press the buzzer to be let in. I even went up and touched the front door because I knew you and Mum had done that and weirdly, it made me feel close to you.

I wish you were on the other side of that door.

I wish you were still here.

Happy birthday my wonderful Dad. Give Mum a hug from me.

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