Blood on my Hands
Last night I cried myself to..
Last night I cried myself to sleep. I have one problem -
one big problem that is, and I know I shouldn't be upset
about it, but I am. I can't help it. And I never cry in
public, or at least try not to, but I cry frequently in my
room. This is why I was crying.
My nan, Shelagh, went bankrupt. Her home and possesions
were reposessed by the coucil, and she's been relocated.
She smokes, 80 a day and claims not to be addicted. I
hardly ever talk to her. Shelagh and my mother had a huge
row - they're always having huge row. Even when I was a
baby my mum used to come into my room at night, lie down
with me and cry. And I knew it was because Shelagh had
said something so horrible my mum couldn't deal.
I have to tell you, my mother is the most caring, wonderful
person I have ever met. She truly tries to never be nasty
to anyone, and achieves that a lot. She has morals,
values, but falls apart (or is torn apart) by my
grandmother. We had to change our phone number after
getting abusive calls - FROM MY OWN GRANDMOTHER! In fact,
my aunt had to MOVE HOUSE because of the hate mail and
horrible visits she got. My grandfather gets really upset
by her vindictiveness.
When I was seven, I stayed with Shelagh for a week. One of
the only times I've ever seen her. She was amazing, I
loved her within that week. Every minutes, every hour
stands out, crystal clear in my memory. I can remember it
all. I loved it so much, her house, the smell, her cats
which she fed reguarly, her little bus rides into town...
Even her disgusting PVC leggings. :-)
But I know Shelagh is mentally ill. I remember my mother
describing it to me when I was young, telling me carefully
how nanny was mad. How her mind didn't work how it
should. But she seemed so amazingly sane at the time. She
fretted over her seconds husband a lot, I remember...
Didn't like him being home late...
I could hardly believe it when I heard she had hit him over
the head with a telephone in the night and thrown him out
of his house.
So, now the council won't tell us where she has been
relocated to. My mum doesn't want to know, I don't think.
I know that I shouldn't care about her, the woman who
betrayed my mothers love so carelessly - but I do. I spent
one week with her, but it was a week that changed my life.
A week which made me discover my nan wasn't just mad, she
could love too. And I'm worried about her. I really am.
Where is she? Is she okay?
I guess I can only pray.