Dazed and Confused

So. Valentines day. I feel sorry for all those people who have been booked into restaraunts tonight for their 'romantic valentines meal' (complete with special menu). Even sorrier for those that will sit at window tables-their only salvation being the paper heart arrangements that are crudely stuck to the glass. Everyone trying to look 'more in love' than the diners next to them. There's probably more people feeling like shit today than anything else and despite the way i'm talking, I won't be one of them. Reason being that before christmas I split up with my partner of 14 years, the father of my child. Tonight I will celebrate and rejoice in my new found freedom. The romance can wait..

My Nan 'Mary Norah Brady' was born in Liverpool on 31st July 1910, making her a little under 96yrs of age. My great-grandparents came over from Ireland before the children were born and owned a Chandlers shop on Scotland Road in Bootle, this is where my nan met my grandad. He was a delivery boy and worked for them on a Saturday. He pedalled his bike all over, struggling uphill with the huge front-basket full of goods. He once told me he would have 'carried the bike on his back to get back and see Norah'. In time he proposed and they had three children; Jean (who died sadly 13 years ago), Alan (my wonderful father) and Maureen (mother to my cousin Gillian and grandmother to her two children).
My grandad Tommy, died eight years ago and Norah was devastated. They epitamised love. While Tommy was away at war he wrote the most amazing letters and cards (which she still keeps close at hand)and their faith in God kept them strong. They celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary in a club packed out with family and friends and danced the night away. I can honestly say that i've never seen two people more besotted with each other in my life, so much so that I cry as I write.
The reason why I feel compelled to put this down is quite simple. I don't think Norah has long left to live. She was admitted into hospital yesterday after a series of hallucinations took her to wander around the streets looking for Tommy. One minute he was sitting on the sofa, she made him a cup of tea and then he was gone. A group of orphan children also sat on her sofa, huddled together, singing. She opened her purse to get some money to give them and they too dissapeared. Last week it was the rosary being said very loudly, she could hear it through the walls and although she has always been a devout catholic, it frightened her.
At the hospital, the doctor asked her what year she was born, she replied '1910, asked who the reigning queen is she said 'Anne' what year are we in now? '1958'..

There are so many questions I feel I should have asked while she still knew the answers. I wish i'd have been closer to her. The only thing I do know for sure is that she's been away from Tommy for far too long, her heart aches. She has had enough of this world and I wish her every happiness in the next.

I am the frayed cuffs
Of the men who climb
And of the men who fall also-
Of those I am the frayed cuffs.

I am the sleeve of the the killer
The bearer of clues.

I am the worn elbows of the meek and the lowly
And of the high and mighty also-
Of those I am the worn elbows.

I am the sleeve of the lover
On which hearts are hung.

I am the rags and tatters
Of the defeated armies of the earth
And of the victors also-
Of those I am the tatters and the rags.

I am the sleeve of the soldier
Witness this round hole.