It feels surreal. I do a quick mentalcalculation and realise it has been some twenty years since I was last in thesame room as mother. I am a 34-year-old man, and I was just a 14-year-old boywhen she saw me last. Even without her illness I am quite sure it’d be difficultfor her to recognise me.
All at once I feel agreat wave of protection wash over me and I motion to George and Janey to hangback for a minute. Just until I am sure she is OK with having me in the room. Iam only too well aware she could take fright, especially after her recent nastyvisit from father.
I take tiny little tentative baby steps inher direction. She hasn’t seen me yet since the back of her chair faces thedoor, and she is positioned looking out of the window. I am momentarilydistracted as I take in the view. Another silent prayer of thanks to Beatriceand her team. The view mother has out of her window is nothing short ofspectacular. In the forefront are the well-tended gardens of the home. Not somuch colour at this time of year but beautiful none the less. There is a largeholly bush off to the right teaming with red berries. And, directly in front ofher window sits a bird bath and bird feeder so no doubt she will see plenty ofwildlife. However, it is the view beyond this which captivates me. Loch Portreeis visible in all its splendour. The morning sun causes sparkles and shimmeringlight like a blanket of stars right all along its surface. And, if I am notmistaken, off in the distance sits the Isle of Raasay.
I snap back to reality as I realise I havereached her chair. My heart is hammering in my chest. I continue my slow inchforwards then start to walk around the side of the chair. This is it. I am nowstood face to face with mother. Only she hasn’t looked up yet, seeminglyunaware of who might’ve come to see her, so I take the opportunity to sit downin front of her, not wanting to intimidate her by standing towering over her.Her eyes are still cast downwards, fixated on the action of rubbing one palmand then the other. She is thoroughly engaged in the action.
I pluck up thecourage to speak and it comes out as a very weak “Mother.” The hand rubbingceases and she slowly raises her head. Eventually we lock eyes, and I amimmediately despondent. There is nothing there. She is completely vacant asthough a ghostly presence is inhabiting the frail body of my mother. Althoughtwenty years have passed, she is instantly recognisable. She hasn’t changedmuch at all. What she suffered at father’s hands aged her I’m sure, but shealmost looks as though since she’s moved here, she has been frozen in time,still very much like I remember her. All the anxiety and stress having leftlong ago. She no longer has to fear for her life or for mine. All her needs arebeing taken care of here and for once she is being property cared for.
The tension in the room is palpable. Isense George and Janey eagerly anticipating my reaction – has she recognisedme? I put them out of their misery with a shake of the head and signal for themto come and sit down beside me. Mother looks quite at peace. I feel sure shewon’t be too concerned if they come over. They flank either side of me and Ican’t help but hang my head in disappointment. I absolutely knew this could bethe case, that she might not recognise me. I thought I had mentally preparedmyself for this eventuality, but it still came as a disappointment.
Then I felt it. Janey frantically rubbingmy thigh to get my attention. “Thomas; Thomas! Look!” she said animatedly. Ilooked up and again directly towards mother. The ghost had vanished, and mymother’s beautiful features were illuminated in a beaming smile.
“Thomas? Thomas? Is that you?”
I wanted to leap towards her, to hold herso tightly, but refrained myself from doing so. The last thing I wanted to dowas scare her witless, so I opted instead for a calmer approach. “Yes mother,it is me! It’s your Thomas!” I held my hands out towards her and shereciprocated, placing both of her hands in mine. The joyful tears flowedfreely. We had an unshakable bond unbroken by time or her illness. I could feelthe years melting away in that short time. Internally I cursed myself for nevercoming back.
I have built a life for myself, yes. Butat the same time, I have been in denial about a lot. When I think about whatmother and I have been through together I am utterly ashamed of myself forleaving her alone. Never visiting. Appeasing myself with the thought that a fewregular phone calls to check in on her were enough. Clearly that’s not thecase. She has recognition. She has recognised me, and I have felt thatcloseness to her once again. Things can never go back to how they were before.Seeing mother – this has to become a part of my life and undoubtedly Michael’slife too. It is only right that he should know about his heritage and he needsto meet his grandmother too.
She averts her gaze. It lands upon Georgeand she extends to him the same radiant smile. He beams back. Then like a thiefin the night she quickly steals her hands out of my grasp, clutching themanxiously close to her chest. The veil of confusion has descended. Her eyesglaze over, the eyes of a stranger. I know in that instant when she’s lookingat me, she is looking right through me. She doesn’t have a clue who I am.Breathe, Thomas. You knew this could happen. To even have that fleeting momentof recognition was simply something to be treasured.
I sit back in my seat to try to give hersome breathing space too. It is blatantly obvious she has retreated into hershell.
