Do you remember when I used to catch sticklebacks in the river outside the house. We kids would catch our prized fish in our jam jars and keep them as pets over the weekend, come Monday morning Mr Stickleback would be set free before I went to school.
Do you remember me sitting on the kitchen table eating the carrot you were grating for lentil soup. I loved the sweetness of the carrot, I can taste it now.
Do you remember my school skirt. You insisted on the correct knee length (of course) and I would roll up the waist band every morning when I got to school. I end up with my short skirt but with a padded waist like a sumo wrestler.
Do you remember the holidays with sand and sunshine. Sangria for you adults and iced chocolate for us.
Do you remember this scruffy teenager who bought the most ancient mole skin coat from the vintage clothes shop. I loved it, you hated it. The weekend at the Mayfair Hotel in London, a huge treat for all of us, when you pretended me and my coat were not with you.
Do you remember visiting me in Greece and meeting my mad friends, enjoying the sunny lifestyle and bringing me red cross parcels from home.
Do you remember my wedding day. You and Dad looking so smart, so happy, so together. Pity the same could not be said for the bride.
Do you remember coming to stay here in the cottage, shopping in Glasgow, enjoying the garden in summer and snow in winter.
Do you remember when Idgy was born and you were so darn proud. The christening gown, the church, sunshine and party in the garden.
Do you remember the holidays at La Manga, Dad dancing with his little grand-daughter, sitting in the sun.
Do you remember lunch this time last year, almost to the very day. We laughed and talked and enjoyed each others company, you, Colin, Idgy and me. A special day, our belated Christmas lunch. The exchange of gifts, a tradition, a joy.
Do you remember why I was thrown away like the stickleback, set free into the river of my life after that special lunch less than a year ago. Now I bring you gifts and they are the wrong thing, I talk and you do not listen, I give but you have no wish to receive. You look past me to my brother and wish him well. I am so very sorry Mum that I was not the one who was there in your desperate hours of need. I am so glad that Colin was there for you, but I do wish you could remember me as the person who was with you at Christmas lunch such a short time ago, not just the disappointment I became.
Dear Mum, I remember it all.