A Quickie by Mia
Death is harder.
Harder for those left behind anyway.
Sorry, Ashley – I still miss you my friend.
Religion is there in the background of all our lives. My Parents were not church going. I was surprised once when my father expressed his faith, he had never stepped inside a church. We children are always lucky if our parents do not see their faith as a gift to give.
Ashley’s parents did not see life that way. They had a deep faith that meant it was rare for Ashley not to attend a church on Sunday. Although Christianity did not determine the way Ashley lived, it was a presence in her life. She may not have spoken to God, but she understood sin and the consequences. It sat in her work, hovering as a theme under explored.
Nigel is different. He explores death, sin, and redemption. I recently edited a short story of his about a man having an interview with God. He is still playing with the story, despite me applying my best editing skills. He made me wonder if I should react to the loss in our group.
Death has a way of greeting us all. Casting us into doubt till we question mortality itself.
That is what I have been doing this last couple of years. The last time I published a quickie I was divorced and dating. I would look – but why spoil a good flow when I do not care.
There comes an age in life when everything you used to do is just boring. Or simply exhausting. When we are young we think nothing of heading out on a weekend, having lots of alcohol with our friends, new and old. Picking up strangers, and becoming intimate and leaving without finding out a name.
Children change that. This little humankind so beyond our understanding and yet demands so much. Speaking makes them a little easier to understand. They grow to be argumentative little sods. And then the weekends begin. The circle becomes complete. You either hope they are like you or not – being them is not an option.
I stopped dating.
It shocked me when I realised. Sitting in on a Saturday night wondering which streaming services I would look to find the next great drama to live vicariously through.
My children mock me for watching Eastenders just as I mocked my mother for watching Coronation Street.
There is comfort in a soap opera.
As we age is that a truth we find. Comfort is king.
I am not a car girl. I really do not care which car I drive. Nigel once told me he hated Volvos when he was sixteen. He called them middle-class accessories for uncool professionals. On reaching his fifties Volvos suddenly looked beautiful to him. He recognised the lines were chic and desirable. He us now in his sixtieth decade and they still make his head turn. And he still has never own one. He hides behind lines, swearing it is beauty, but really it is safety and comfort. He currently owns an Vauxhall estate car. There are two of them, why does he need an estate. It is comfort.
Back to me. This is a quickie it should be about me.
(Although bad mouthing my fellow members does not get edited out in a quickie).
Every day is the same. The evenings roll out of the day, the dimming light followed by the dark. I wake to find light and the number changing bit it still all feels the same. Another day older turns into a week, a month, and suddenly it becomes another birthday to ignore.
There comes an age where birthdays need to stop.
A card to acknowledge the day is slightly special but that is all.
We go into this blind acceptance we must celebrate the glory of another year. But was it full of light? People ask, “What do you want for your birthday?”
What do you answer. I work full time; all my needs catered for. My desires too, are satisfied. I am comfortable. I know that is becoming increasingly rare in this broken nation. I go without holidays; I have no one to enjoy them with. I go without renewing one room in my house every year. Why – because I like the way they look. The clothes I have suit me, my weight is stable, and I still have style. When I look in a mirror, I acknowledge that.
I acknowledge I am fortunate. I have the privilege of not struggling. And I do manage to have a little fun, just now and again. All my friends are in the same boat. We all make different decisions on what we will spend on – and therefore what we cannot. There is no point in anger. The time for anger was in 2008 or even 2010. Instead we embarked upon a path that we are still scared to deviate from.
A simple rule for you politicians, if you have years of inflation without wage growth following years of austerity attitudes change. We, the people, have learnt to be satisfied with our lot. We watch the disintegration around us and know we can do nothing. The politicians wring their hands over the slow growth or promise us they have the answer – without revealing what it is. We take our pleasures with simplicity. The politicians have failed us. The nature of their failing depends on your political viewpoint.
The certainty is they have failed. Failed to see the basic truth of the country. We are a consumer society; our economy grows with consumerism. They know this, they are not stupid people (I hope) so years of suppressing incomes while growing expenditure will lead to losses in confidence. Appeal to the basic instinct, the minority that see their success growing and direct the anger of those that growth has abandoned.
As for Mia, I watch with an apathy as large as the wall separating Scotland from England.
I am not a fool.
Neither should you be either.
Change never comes from those who have been playing the game for decades.
This country will only change when we ignore them all.
You might like this from Medular Sinclair
Or this from Nigel Hare
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