Archive for Mothers Day

Random Day

Posted in Autobiography, Biography, health, Stories and reviews by Kathy Da Silva, writing with tags , , , , , , , on March 16, 2017 by kathydasilva

If walking through the park was something of a regular need for the daily constitutional, well, that is, I think,  something I should be doing. And for better or worse now the weather is improving, I must make some sort of effort to get my body moving and my health will follow. It is I am sure something writers and artists always struggle with the whole isolation element of writing or making art only to find, that the whole goal is to communicate, and yes, the isolation is only good for the purpose of concentration on the finer details of what you make. I am glad that within the four walls of my apartment stroll two adorable cats, with their own idea of what enjoyment is. And they both individually select their place of repose, sometimes on a window sill, and sometimes snug up against the heater, balanced on the back cushion of the sofa. In my humble, and rather small reception room or lounge, I have the best sofa, as yet, having  only purchased second hand furniture mostly, but, one sofa bed was indeed new. The burned orange colour of the cushions, is enough to make a person feel the warmth of summer sun. I am glad, now, that the ‘bargain’ in the heart shop, came to be mine, one drissly winter’s day, back in the autumn of I think 2012. I was lucky to have acquired it. Anything of true value will always be at least over the £400 mark, this one only a fractional cost at £40. I am all up for the recycle if you can, and especially if it’s for charity. And the heart shop holds a unique place in my own life history for my son, had caught some bug, as a baby, and his heart had suffered the distortions of cardiomyopathy. Enlarged left ventrical. The anti biotics and meds, ensured the heart functioned as good as near new. And I believed he would live a whole life, alongside me some of the way. And as we head toward a weekend of rapturous celebration of motherhood, I find myself left with a horrid sense of loss.  When my sister and I were kids, we made presents for our mother, made her the first cup of tea of the morning, and raced through to her bedside, in a wholly excited mood, to see what she would say and the delight of her face lighting up with a smile, and the inevitable ‘Thank You!’ And why not? Why not celebrate everything, to do with the whole act of making a family. I am glad there is still some humanity in our culture. There is still some wonderful thing ahead, but, I am going to have to make it happen. And if remembering what is wholly good about life through my memories of  childhood, revisiting places that do just that will be just where you will find me this summer. Sand in my shoes…