Mumbles and muttering…
I catch snippets of Martha talking hurriedly to herself. Chatting away, I turn my head quickly. ‘What are you talking about? Probing and invasive. ‘Nothing’ she mumbles. It reminds me of when I was a teenager, muttering under my breath and being caught out, my parents invasive, what was I saying? Nothing important. Now as I hear her talk and talk and talk I insist with the same insistence my parents once had, I demand to know what she is talking about.
Nothing.. She grows angry that I want to know her secrets. She keeps them as guarded as possible from me, she mutters under breath, glancing up to check if I am watching. When I turn my head she stops talking, as if she has been caught in a lie. I turn back and from the corner of my eye I see her lips move, the words are falling from her soundless mouth as she tries to keep her conversation a secret.
I leave the space we are in, trapped in a car I tune out, I don’t want to listen to her chatter anymore, but something in me still wants to know her secrets, I turn the radio up to distract myself. Martha covers her ears. Her chatter becomes faster, more urgent, she is glancing up at me. I turn the music off, making a big deal of the action. She is relieved, it was too noisy she couldn’t hear herself talk. I grab for her hand and will her to squeeze back, I will her to know who I am, that I am of her blood. She quickly pulls her hand back, frantic in her talking.
We have arrived at my destination, Martha out of the car and inside quickly. Glad to be home I sense as checks her belongings, all there. She sits on her bed and I lean against the door frame, “Are you ok Mum?” She looks up and her smile is wide and bright, it is beaming and sunshiney and I bask in its warmth “mmmm.” She sighs
I make her a cup of tea and bring her something to eat, she sits in the chair she usually sits in, she looks content, satisfied. I look at her and give thanks, at last she knows she is home.
Ngaaaaw mumma you seem to now only enjoy your internal conversations and who knows may be memories of your childhood or places only you knew and created places that no one else will ever know but you, perhaps you see familiar faces of people and revel in the enjoyment of that moment the few pleasures perhaps that your memory will allow you to remember. Guarding and protecting your life’s few treasures. Love you mumma will always pray that God will keep you safe and who knows that could be who you are conversing with everyday ….. Coming to see you soon LOVE YOU MUMMA 💜💜💜