SCOTLAND ZEN and the art of SOCIAL WORK

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SCOTLAND ZEN and the art of SOCIAL WORK Page 36

by J.A. Skinner


  Chapter 32

  Wednesday 4th June

   Medications are available to help manage the signs and symptoms of Huntington's disease, but can’t prevent the physical and mental decline which is characteristic of the condition.

  I enjoyed having the children so much yesterday, and they really loved the story. It was amazing to hear Peter’s words again and I gave the rest of the story to John as a special privilege, because he had no patience to wait to hear the rest of it. I wish Peter had written down more but wishing never does me any good. While I’m in this sentimental mood I’m going to read my old letters. I pull them out of the kitchen drawer, pour myself a large brandy and settle on the couch. If only my girls could see me now, moderate, sensible Mother, well not always…

  My dearest Mary I was delighted and shocked at your letter. What have we done, created a baby in what you call our moment of madness. Well it wasn’t a moment of madness for me, I love you and miss you every day despite you saying my feelings are exaggerated because I’m away from home and lonely, Its not that I only want what I can’t get, I want you. Since the night of Fiona’s wedding and all that happened after, I can’t seem to content myself with anything. Please say you will leave Peter now and come here to me with Theresa and we can be a family with the new baby.

  How naive Martin was in thinking it would have been that simple, he was still hurting from Patricia leaving him, and all his family and friends feeling sorry for him.

  I’m writing all this but not holding out much hope for a happy ending for me. In my sensible moments I don’t blame you for not listening to me. Why would you disrupt your life for a man who didn’t even know he loved you until you were married to someone else and it was too late? We went to school together, we should have been childhood sweethearts but I was too daft and only wanted to play football. What a stupid fool I have been. Your letter made it quite clear that you don’t want me to take any responsibility for the baby but I’m so pleased you told me anyway. It’s like another special secret between us and you will always have someone to remind you of me. Please write to me when the baby is born and please please change your mind. Look after yourself and if you can, look after my best mate Peter.

  Martin signed his letter with two kisses and I can smile now at his blatant immaturity, requesting that I pack up my life and my daughter to go and live with him amongst strangers. Poor Martin, maybe I shouldn’t have told him about the baby, he was lonely then and he thought I was the answer for him. He took our secret to his grave, exactly as he promised all those yeas ago. I open the second letter and feel myself drifting back to 1950, three weeks after Margaret was born. Peter and I held the christening party at home and luckily I plucked Martins letter out of all the congratulation cards that came through the letter box. I was delighted that Theresa had a sister. Even then I was determined to make sure they were firm friends and not allow any jealousy. The bond between sisters can be so special, and my girls are lucky, they have what I always longed for. Someone to play with, someone to dress up with and go out with, to do their hair together, to be bridesmaids for each other, and even baby sit each others children. I had made up my mind that the letter that I’d written to Martin telling him about baby Margaret would be the last. I had to put it all behind me now, put it in a closed compartment and turn the key in the lock in my mind and get on with my marriage and the rest of my life. I had to learn to love Peter. He was a good man and a good Father it was time for me to grow up.

  My dearest Mary,

  a wee girl, how wonderful, a sister for Theresa, and I love the name you gave her. I’ll be thinking about all of you at the christening. You’re right, it’s best I don’t come, you have given me the best advice all along, you’re the sensible on. I won’t do anything to rock your world, please trust me. I realise now that all you want is a happy family but we will always have our secret, we will know the truth. You said that you hoped I would meet a nice girl and settle down. Maybe that will happen in time, we’ll have to see. No matter what happens I will always have a wee special corner in my heart for you and Margaret, but if we meet in the future we will just be seen to be mates as usual. I’ve sent a present for our baby, a silver bangle, I’ll understand if you don’t give it to her but please hold on to it as a keepsake. I hope that once in a while, when you look at Margaret you’ll think of me.

  This was the final letter and the silver bangle has not been out of the small white box since. It’s a beautiful thing, it looks too small to fit a real baby. Imagine me keeping all these years. I should have given it to Theresa, my first grandchild but I couldn’t bear to part with it. I feel a bit light-headed now with the brandy and the reminiscing. I put everything back in the drawer including the memories, and close it firmly, enough is enough for one day.

 

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