I got to the UK yesterday and, after a day working at head office, I headed off to my Mother's. As per usual, I'm staying at Mom's while I'm over here.
Now, she's great at surprising me and having strange things to tell me when I arrive. The time, for example, that she wanted to show me the portraits of my father that she'd been painting (she wasn't very good at capturing his teeth, and she'd made him ginger). The time I arrived to a house of smoke because she'd been experimenting with her yorkshire pudding recipe.
Or even the time she whisked me straight out to a 'bring a relative' evening at the Women's Institute - I was the only male there, and she'd pretty much missed the point, which was to increase membership numbers.
Anyway, this time she's surpassed herself and has gone ahead and organised to take me to the lighting of 'the cancer tree' as she has named it.
The local cancer hospice has a tree of rememberence every year (for all those who have lost a family member to cancer during the year) and they invite people to sponsor a lightbulb in the name of their loved one.
It's a lovely idea, and they light the tree up tonight, with a local celebrity leading the service - with hymn singing and the reading of 'memories'. It'll be a cheery occasion, as you can imagine. Anyway, my Mom has sponsored a lightbulb on 'the cancer tree' for my Father.
Don't get me wrong, I think the tree of rememberence is a great idea. A lovely way to celebrate a life lost and a person loved. But this one is the tree of rememberence organised by the local cancer hospice.
My Father, God bless his soul, dropped down dead from a heart attack. He never had a cancerous cell in his body.
Yet again, I fear that my Mom has missed the point, somewhat.
But anyway, I'm not going. I have my tuxedo out and I'm heading to a fancy event organised by my fancy contacts at the fancy bank. You wouldn't think they'd do it this year, what with all the talk of doom and gloom - but no, they are laying on the traditional christmas feast for the industry's great and good.
Now, I'm not sure whether I'm great or good, but hey, the gin is free....