Someone at my Al-Anon family groups reminded me of this saying when I was so upset and worried about the Ruby wedding. Our neighbour came out with us and the family for a meal and we got two cards. In the middle of the afternoon my mother rang to say she is packing her college course in because she doesn’t think she wants to be a teachers’ assistant or even run the canteen. I reminded her that at 91 it probably isn’t necessary to do either, but she said she was waiting for my father to come back and had rung and asked my cousin what she thought as she had been a teacher too. The S&H talked to her on the phone and the baby listened and squealed a bit.
The DIL had made a cake with red writing on the icing and I thought that was wonderful. They left the restaurant before pudding because they had a long journey and we and the neighbour got back just too late for the OH to go to the pub, which was a blessing as that would have finished me off. There was a barbeque at the pub yesterday starting at 7 in the rain to which the OH rushed with enthusiasm and no umbrella.
I rang the cousin who had been rung by my mother to explain. I would not describe excusing your mother’s insanity to your other relatives as easy but we did have a little bit of reference to the problem that runs through the family. Because of the genetic component the disease of alcoholism can emerge in different way and endless combinations throughout many generations. Often the control that other family members exhibit in the face of the disease is as damaging as the disease itself. In the past, due to relative poverty, many families may have escaped the disease. Today it is a health epidemic affecting the baby boomers as no generation before. It isn’t just rock stars doing drugs, downing bottles and causing sickness to themselves and collateral damage to their families – as the world gets richer, it’s everywhere.
The other thing that helps me to stay alive is porcelain. For four days last week I poured and today I am beginning what will probably be a week of rubbing down my little porcelain people, before they get forged in the fire, much the same as real people. A miniaturist once remarked at a fair how wonderful it would be if the dolls could talk. No it would not, just as long as they cannot talk or drink we’re all safe.
When Ancient Egyptian priests did the ritual over newly made mummies prior to entombing them, part of the ceremony was The Opening Of The Mouth, so the mummy could account for themselves in the afterlife. I hope if I open my mouth it is helpful to you, ignore it if not, safe in the knowledge that this too shall pass.
You shouldn’t have to say: this too shall pass, about a celebration, you shouldn’t have to apologise for a demented mother, there are lots of things that happen outside a dolls’ house that make you gasp and roll your eyes a bit before you get on with it. All you can ever do, when life makes you sad is try your best to make something beautiful out of it. This is art and that too shall pass unless, and here we say the magic word, it is cer –am-ic!
I’m off to rub down some permanently smiling people.