“Oh my god, she’s going, I can’t stop her, I’m falling too…”#092

An ungainly arrival at Tate Britain.

The guys on reception saw it all unfold. The steady stream of visitors escaping the cold, blowy, grey, wet, November Tuesday. All making their orderly way into the auditorium. Until my mum, Hazel, and I arrived. Chaos ensued as, in a moment of lapsed concentration, my mum tripped, and began her slow motion fall forward onto her hands and knees, unwittingly dragging me down with her as I tried to break her fall. My thoughts:

“Oh my god, she’s going, I can’t stop her, I’m falling too…”

The receptionists and other visitors rushed to offer help, a seat and first aid for mum who, thankfully, apart from the shock of the tumble and a grazed knee, was absolutely fine.

Two Tates

The day hadn’t started well.

I’d booked tickets to go see the Lee Miller photography exhibition at the Tate months ago. The perfect excuse for mum to come and stay for a few days. We’d both seen the film, Lee, starring Kate Winslet, and were moved to learn more about the model, turned photographer, turned incredible war photo-journalist.

As you may know, there are two Tates in London. Tate Modern, the cavernous wonder on the South Bank; Tate Britain, Modern’s older sister, standing grandly on Millbank, beyond the Houses of Parliament.

Of course, I didn’t think to check which Tate I’d booked. Familiarity and recency bias taking over, as I dragged us to Tate Modern. My error registering the moment we arrived. Thank goodness for Uber.

Times

We had a great time.

The Lee Miller exhibition was definitely worth the trip (see what I did there 😉). Some 300-odd photos charting Lee’s journey from fashion to war. Her photos chronicling the final days of WWII and the liberation of the concentration camps. Chilling and haunting images. Surely nothing like that could happen again?…

The war theme, accidentally, continued the next day with a visit to the Kit Kat Club and the magnificent musical Cabaret. The 1970’s film starring Liza Minelli and Michael York one of my mum’s, and my, favourites. Mum had the LP. We knew all the words. We still did. The original production updated for today’s #MeToo, gender and sexually fluid times. The haunting ‘Tomorrow Belongs to Me’ a poignant reminder of the horrors of war and the rise of the far right across the globe. The tension increasing with the changing costumes - erotic stockings and suspenders replaced by sombre fawn suits. Mum watched, mesmerised, as did I, as the Berlin party of the late 1930s came to an end.

Mum loved it. The evocations of earlier times cleverly updated for today.

She returned home to North Devon tired, a little bruised and with many a tale to tell.

What a fabulous few days we had. We took in the delights of London. We hung out. We spent a lot of time in taxis, buses or tubes. We ate. We watched TV. Mum insisted on washing up! But the real gift for me was time. The time we spent together.

Mothers

I don’t know about yours, but my mum is a keen talker. Sometimes the minutiae of her ruminations can drive me (and my bro) mad (don’t mention the lid on her green bin 😊). But what a small price to pay for the fun, laughs and unquestioning love she brings me. I don’t take for granted how lucky I am to still be making such vivid, colourful and calamitous memories with my mum.

My school friend Gill said it best in a text:

“Enjoy your time with Hazel, Sturks. I know they can get irritating at times repeating themselves and talking but just smile and it will be fine. Make special memories while you can”.

You

As ever I’m interested in you. What does your mum, or dad, do that drives you mad yet you know you are going to miss when they're gone? Where do you perhaps need to cut them a bit of slack when they get on your pip? And, in contrast, where might you unknowingly be doing the same to your kids ?

I know you may no longer have one or both of your parents, or indeed children. Regardless, I’d love to hear your thoughts or memories. Pour yourself a cheeky treat and drop me a line, I’d love to hear from you.

And remember, you’re never going to be any younger than you are today. If you still can, give your mum or dad a call, pop and see them, have a chat and listen. Don’t wait until there’s a time when you can’t.

Until next week my friends,

Ruth x