White Rabbit

My mother just returned from Hajj, a religious pilgrimage, a sort of Glastonbury for Muslims. Since returning she has told me that I need to stop this, by which I think she means stop being mentally unwell. She tells me I need to go back to work, because I need to be a good example to my son, Xavier. If I read between the lines I think the suggestion is that I’m not a good example to him right now.

She visited too. I couldn’t explain why, but whenever my parents visit they typically insist from the outset that they cannot stay. My father will often sit in the car, outside the house; perhaps he’ll smoke a cigarette. Or, on occasion, he will stand on the door step. With only the most persistent of encouragement, will they both come in, and even then they both always refuse to remove their coats. Actually the whole thing becomes quite exhausting, because every step from leaving the vehicle, to entering the house, to taking a seat, to accepting a cup of tea, requires such reserves of energy and encouragement on our part. It is a scene fit for the stage, couched in comedy. Every attempt to make them feel welcome and comfortable is met with some retort about how brief this visit will be. This is made all the more comic if one takes a moment to survey the sedentary lives my parents lead. They have lived in this region for nearly thirty years, but still know little about its scenic beauty. A walk for them is what one does travelling from the dairy isle of the supermarket to the bakery section. And between walks they watch extraordinary amounts of television.

Anyhow, her visit to us was brief as always. On this occasion my father didn’t come in. My mother sat down but kept her coat on. She didn’t make much by way of conversation. She did prod my stomach and tell me I am fat, something she said I needed to sort out. She gave Xavier a few inappropriate presents, the sort that uniquely combines plastic, noise and violence.

Both Alicia and I couldn’t help but notice how well my father seemed whilst my mother was away. He came across as carefree, energetic, spirited and joyful. Now there is a marriage I might never understand.

It’s been a positive week and I continue to recover, with the expected ups and downs. To myself I say, surround yourself with passionate people, everybody else can wait for now.