The following is a voice mail I received from my 81 year old Grandmother at approximately midday, a couple of days before Christmas…
“Hiya Love, it’s just your Nan.
So… Edna called me up last week about some awful accident at the boat club.
Did you hear about it?
Apparently someone fell through the thin ice on the canal and drowned.
Awful that, isn’t it?
Edna thought it might have been you….
…So I thought I best give you a ring to check it wasn’t.
Give us a call when you can love. Love you.”
Now, as much as I dislike dear old ‘Edna from across the block’, (Just because she’s old now doesn’t mean I can’t still see her for what she is; the shit stirring, loud mouth who was the bane of most of my teenage life) it good to hear she’s concerned about my welfare…
…Evidently a lot more so than my own grandmother who spent a week accepting the possibility that I was sleepin’ with the fishes before thinking to give me a bell to check.