Nobody asks if we had a nice time away on our recent trip to York.
My dad has his own health problems and talks about his stoma over dinner.
I feel drained emotionally and physically. I feel guilty about my feelings, as my parents have invited us to dinner.
One of my sisters phones from Canada. Despite my mum saying that my daughter and I were there, I don’t think she asked how we were and didn’t ask to speak to me. My mum tells her about the Consultant not been in clinic last week for my dads appointment. There is no mention of the fact I need to have a surgical procedure on my dialysis access in a few weeks under G.A. This scenario of sibling calls happens every year. No matter which sister phones. Then I’m meant to look interested when my mum proceeds to tell me what they’re all doing in their lovely houses in Canada. I sit with a fixed smile upon my face. I know that two of my brothers are spending Christmas Day together. I know that my two sisters in Canada speak to each other regularly. I know that my younger brother will visit my parents over the Christmas period. I feel like screaming at times. What about me? Who cares? Why do I bother?
I feel guilty because my dad has had a rough time with his own ill health.
I show my mum the poem that I have won a competition to be in the final of and have my poem published. She reads it and hands it back. Doesn’t say a word. Maybe the poem hit a nerve. Maybe she doesn’t want to acknowledge my true feelings.
Somehow, the lyrics of Queens ‘The Invisible Man’ just seem so apt.
