SHATTERED SHELLS

So my favourite time of the year from this weekend will be no more. People ask me why I am so negative. I could tell them but should I?

 I used to love Easter. It was a time when I had such plans. I would buy in fresh free ranged eggs. Onions, with loose skins. Chocolate, cereal and mini eggs as well as large Easter eggs, hand crafted little baskets and cute bunnies and chicks.

I had food in for a pick nick and my x and I would go out with my Son and find a large National trust organised garden and among the fields of daffodils, dancing around the Rhododendrons, children’s entertainers dressed as Easter rabbits would hand out gifts to the children whilst we all went on an egg hunt. We would visit hills and roll our boiled eggs down. I would boil them the night before and apart from water of course, in the pan would be onion skins to dye and make the eggs taste so much nicer. After they were boiled, I would roll them in butter and put them to dry. I would only do this when my Son was tucked away in bed. When he would wake in the morning, he would be amazed as the Easter chicks would have left him such gifts, such as the boiled eggs and I would have made nests with the cerial and chocolate then put the coloured mini eggs in the middle.

So whose egg would crack down the hill first? We would make Easter bonnets and laugh at the face paintings on the children. Of course, I couldn’t see what my Son or any other child looked like, but that was for me only to know.

Every Good Friday, my family tradition was not to eat meat. Had to be fish. Well I don’t nor ever have eaten fish, so I would have chips. So for the other family members, always fish & chips on Good Friday. My Son was brought up like this.

Some would say overboard for Easter? Perhaps. But it was fun. It was family times I knew as a child and my Son knew.

He doesn’t want that now. Of course, he is a very tall seventeen year old. Why would he? I guess why he also would have a stocking at Christmas and love birthday balloons for his day of birth celebrations too? But seemingly no more.

This is my first Easter for seventeen years that will be different. Just as in March, I was without my child on Mother’s Day too.

Tomorrow, Good Friday, my Son is off to his gf’s Fathers house. She has been away at her Mothers for the full two weeks of the holiday, so she is back for Easter weekend, of course he wants to see her.

Oh well, I saved a fortune in grocery’s this week as when I learned he is leaving tomorrow and not back till Monday, four days later, I removed items from the basket of our online shopping trolley.

It’s really tough. So painful too. I know it’s me. I’m stupid and I hate myself for this. I know he is grown up and perhaps I can’t stand the thought of what I feel. The worst bit is, no one understands me. Even I don’t understand myself.

I am a little fed up with the world today. It’s my Father in laws Birthday. We tried to phone him three times, only to find out from our brother in law, that my Hubs Dad was away in his caravan this weekend. So nice to be told?

My mad aunt phoned me and again, I got a feeling of not belonging. And to top it all. Just found out that my Sons driving instructor has spent all today’s lesson quizzing my son about what it is like living with blind parents and how hard it is for him? You know, did my Sons gf get asked such questions when she went for her driving lesson? What it was like to live with a Mother like she has? Or the lad across the road, what it is like for him to have parents who don’t really care about his wellbeing?

Or the lady two avenue’s away, and her disagreements she has with her partner? Answer? No. He wouldn’t ask anything about their private life. So why the hell do people feel the right to ask about our life or how hard it is for my boy?

When we were on holiday in the Caribbean, all the natives asked my boy if he were adopted, to help us out?

I sometimes really feel like running away and living on an island away from humans.