Bitch on the Blog

February 11, 2014


Filed under: Human condition — bitchontheblog @ 15:10

Every one dies. So far so common place. However, it’s getting worse.

Renee who I am very fond of buried her mother recently. There is no comfort to the fact that her mother lived to, how does the phrase go, “a ripe old age”. God damn it. I still have both my parents. They too are getting riper and I dread the day. I dread the day I won’t hear their voices (our communication being mainly over the phone). The day that phone won’t ring. The day when I, absentmindedly, dial their numbers (they do have two separate ones) and no one will answer. I basically dread old age.

OLD Age? Don’t make me laugh. Forgetting the likes of James Dean and Marilyn Monroe, Philip Seymour Hoffman and many others leaving the playing field prematurely, the brother of LSF (longest standing friend) died at 51. Last summer. A golden boy. Just like that. No warning. No foreboding. Nothing.

Death has always been my friend, close to me, never far from my mind. But he (has death a gender? In German he does) is beginning to get on my nerves. I am not religious though did get married in church and my son was christened in the very same. But there are phrases in sermons at the grave side, taken from the Bible, I love. “Man born to woman”, “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust”. Comforting. Grand words. Grand gestures. Expansive. Evocative. You almost don’t mind being dead – and the only who can’t hear the words.

I would love, and please don’t think me morbid – I am not, to hold a memorial service for both my parents (though separately as to give them their own spaces) whilst they are still ALIVE. So they can actually know how much I appreciate them, appreciated them even when Sunday afternoons were blue torture because my father made me sit down and listen to classical music and “guess” the bloody composer. How I miss it. Now I know my Mozart from my Beethoven. Even though they do overlap in temperament in certain pieces.

What brought this on? Apart from Renee,  – and I could write a whole essay on the above, except I do not lack self discipline: Shirley Temple has died. How dare a child die? At age 85.




  1. I dread old age as well. Or rather I dread the possible infirmity and senility that might claim me long before I physically die. I hope to goodness I just die in my sleep one day, or drop dead from a fatal heart attack, long before I’m a doddery old wreck. And also long before all my friends and acquaintances die so I’m not left in aching loneliness.

    But I try not to think of old age at all and focus on enjoying the present while I’m still fit and healthy.

    Comment by nick — February 11, 2014 @ 15:20 | Reply

    • I know you don’t have children, Nick. So let me translate: I never feared death until my son was born. It was, still is, the only cloud that hangs over the happiest of my life, namely that of being his mother.

      I keep telling myself, and will do so some time soon, that I must put all my affairs in order so he won’t have administrative hassle on top of his grief. And grief there will be. You know, Nick, and it makes me cry, and is one of the few self revelatory moments I rarely indulge in: I have always been on tap for my son. Day and night. To this day. Not intrusively. Just there. For him and his friends. Shouid he/they need me/talk/bacon sandwich, whatever, Yet, the very moment he might need me the most I won’t be able to help him. Comfort him. That thought made me, almost, not want to bring a child into the world.

      You can’t get more personal and upfront than what I have just told you.


      Comment by bitchontheblog — February 11, 2014 @ 15:41 | Reply

      • PS Nick, and before I forget in response to your own feelings – my mind doing its usual meandering: I agree with you. As does my mother. There is nothing more than the dread of going doo lally . I once mentioned to the Angel and asked him to loosen a roof tile when the time comes (unsurreptiously since I don’t want him to go to prison on my behalf, or even his own). He was not amused.


        Comment by bitchontheblog — February 11, 2014 @ 16:02 | Reply

  2. Both my parents died “young” he died aged 55 back in ’70 and she followed in ’75 aged 51. years later my youngest sister made a series of comments: “We never really mourned did we? But then we didn’t dare to . Still scared of mother’s scathing comments.” and (her partner was back in Wales looking after his mother) “We’ve been lucky. We’ve never done the old people thing have we? Wouldn’t they have been awful old people?” She was absolutely right on all counts. You are lucky with your relationships with your parents so give them their “memorials”…. organise a big party for each of them…or both of them.

    As for fearing old age….Nick is absolutely spot on…. death itself holds no fear for me/myself but old age and senility do…… do not be surprised to hear that I have gone early….But I have to rewrite my will first…

    Would that I had brought as much pleasure to as many as did Miss Temple …..

    Comment by magpie11 — February 11, 2014 @ 19:59 | Reply

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