When I moved over to blog spot I never told my Mum, and as far as she knows, she just thinks, I've not been blogging. My Sis told her I had a blog, and at the time I was none too pleased as my Mum used to ring every time I wrote to add her two penneth.
Tonight I sat down with my dinner on my tray, a glass of chilled wine and started to watch the X Factor, it's my little routine on a Saturday night. If Phil's working, we have this joke as you can be sure as can be, that as soon as I sit down to eat, he'll ring me.
I was sitting eating my dinner and the phone rang. I picked it up and said, 'told ya, you must have E.S.P. as I'm eating my dinner and watching the X factor'. The TV was up loud as I hadn't turned it down and I started laughing as I thought it was Phil.
I heard this person talking, it wasn't him, it was my Mum to tell me that her Mother had died.
She'd seen me on line and tried to message me, but I wasn't about. She's left a message on my mobile but it wasn't in the room.
I now have this awful feeling of guilt................... This guilt is not because of my Grand Mother dying, it's because that I didn't get my Mother's messages.
What you need to understand was that my Grand Mother, was never my Grand Mother. My Mother was born out of wedlock and at a young age was sent to live with relatives and then sent to an all girls boarding school in Edinburgh, Scotland.
When we were little I saw her but knew her as an Aunt. My Gran and Grandad were known as Aunt Beat and Uncle Mark. My Brother and I never knew them as our Grand parents and when we did see them, they were cold toward us and we hated it.
When we were much older, my Mum told us that they were our Grand Parents, by this time, 'Uncle Mark' had died. We always knew something was strange as why did we always have to visit people we never really liked just for the sake of it?
I have known that my Grand Mother has been ill for years now, blind and in a wheel chair. My Mother asked on numerous occasions that we visit her but every time we say no.
She never acted like my other Nan, who I still miss to this day, so why should I? My brother felt the same.
I now have this tremendous guilt and feel that I need to support my Mum. I'll, do what ever she wants, but it still won't take away the feeling that she was never my Nan.
They say blood is thicker than water, but on this occasion, give me water any day.