Femme Fatale

 The date is December 24th 2014 and it is undoubtedly Christmas Week. I've been thinking about the ladies in my life today because it is my mum's birthday, sister's hen night in three days time, annual Christmas Eve drinks with two cousins and a sister and also the first time we're experiencing Christmas without our Aunty Eileen and for another branch of our family a lady called Grandma Mattie. My aunties, neighbours and my mum's friends traditionally come in for a mince pie and a cup of tea today so it really is all about the señoritas.

   I've been blessed with the women around me. I was brought up with a sister and my mum has 3 sisters of her own, my nana had several sisters and one of them is now but an urn behind the chair in our dining room now but until March she was a larger than life teeny tiny little old lady who helped to make several of my dreams come true. I also have several cousins, one of the youngest who is now experiencing her first Christmas as an eighteen year old and is joining her older female counterparts for the usual dance around the Christmas tee, aka Stamps Bar & Bistro this evening.

   I will begin with the subject of mothers. My mother is as quirky as she is strong, batty as she is generous and hot tempered as she is sweet natured. My mother, or Ange as I usually call her has behaved like a lioness for the last 27.9 years, she protects her girls with a fierceness only mother's possess and woe betide anyone who tries to stand in her way. Over the years Ange has fought for my dyslexic sister's right to learn in a suitable environment, fought with my sister over her refusal to learn, stood by me through thick and thin (literally, currently thick but I'm working on it …ish) and supported me through all of my little adventures. She had a great example you see, through several different women she watched as she grew and I like to think she took the best of what she witnessed.

   I also have a sister who is to be married on Valentines Day to a delightfully handsome and calm young man. So calm he's falling over on occasion, I was expecting him at 10am to drop off some items to the family home, he whatsapped me at 11:45am saying that he was "running a bit late." We've taken to calling this sort of thing Classic Jake. One hopes that he doesn't experience the same tardiness on his matrimonial day. I digress. We're going to celebrate her hen night in a few days time, 27 women all intent on having a party are going to hit Liverpool City Centre and swap stories all about my little sister. I already know that I will beam with pride because my one and only sibling is truly a woman to be proud of. Lucy is a very small person with long dark hair, she's got a tiny frame and a husky voice, it was one of the things people thought was cutest about her as a child. Lucy was mischievous as a little one, known to disappear into lingerie stands in Marks & Spencer's and reappear wearing the garments after our mother had spent a frantic few minutes looking for her amongst the clothes stands. Lucy grew older, not taller or wider but a little more orange for a time and became a naughty teenager, struggling in the classroom to understand the tasks expected of her and frustrated by the slowness of her progress in the middle of a school unable to assist her. She found some solace in the school toilets with cigarettes and every now and again she would skip off only to be caught. My Lucy was a very unsuccessful truant, she was caught by me, our dad and one of our nanas during her escapades away from school. Lucy then grew up a little more and became something akin to responsible over time, now she's an example of someone who's turned out just right after being given time and space to grow into who she really is. Who she really is, is my sister, the same person she always was but now a little more socially acceptable. She's going to become a wife, a daughter and sister-in-law. She'll do a great job, those who have to fight for their place in society often become excellent examples and our little Lucy is an excellent example of what can be done when you work so very hard to realise your aims and goals.

   I have grandmothers, aunties and cousins all of whom have played their part in my journey from 1987 to now. I have been loved, worried about, played with, talked to, discussed and most importantly included in their lives as they go about their own daily chores. They've shown me compassion and given me attention, they've taken me on holiday and out for the day, they've had me as a house guest in London for the weekend with no notice whatsoever, they've included me in their families and said nice things about me to my mum. They've accepted me for who I am and understand that I am anxious, I am panicked, I get depressed and sometimes go missing inside of myself but they are able to look past it and see what lies beneath the frazzled and yet very quiet veneer. They've made me feel cherished for all of my life.

   And finally, this Christmas as I've already said is the first without Aunty Eileen. Eileen won't be in her orangey red armchair this year looking out at the world she could no longer be a part of and she won’t be waiting for me to come and make some kind of warm sandwich for Christmas Day breakfast. She'll be with all of the other people who've been loved and lost this year all over the world. I hope she's up in the sky and twirling about with the man she is having her first Christmas with in 16 years. We talk about her a lot, I think about her all the time, I talk to her when I'm walking about attending to my business in the streets of Seville and I know she's always keeping an eye out and probably wishing she'd been able to visit me there in person. I'm glad she can see it all for herself now.

 
  Christmas always makes us think and this year it's making me think about the women I'm surrounded by. Some are in the here and now and some make up the fabric of the memories I have of the past. Each one is a beautiful stitch in an ever growing work of life and another branch on a family tree that just keeps on growing and growing, always in bloom, never bare and permanently giving hope to those who take shade and stop for a rest under its branches.

 

These blogs act as a sort of writing therapy to me, they help me offload the things which play on my mind. I try to make them useful for myself and also enjoyable reading for others so I would like to  thank you for  taking the time to read my entries and I wish you all a truly happy and 'especial' Christmas Week.