Tinkerbell, please take me to Never Never Land, just for awhile. Just so I can forget my woes, my life.
I want to just sit in the trees and gaze at the stars.
I want to go on adventures and meet the stuff of tales.
I want to just(more) live.
Please, I beg of you. Sprinkle a little fairy dust and take me away.(less)
"Just a sprinkling of fairy dust and it will allll be alright again" That was my mother's delusional mantra. Maybe it worked when I was a child, but now it just seemed ridiculous. I was sitting broken at my childhood kitchen table and what I needed was sensible adult. What I got(more) was my mother, still in her dressing gown prancing about the kitchen with a make believe wooden spoon wand. I suppose it would be worth mentioning at this point, that my mother had early onset dementia. None the less, home was still home and where any self respecting daughter would head for first and foremost when it is time to fall apart. My father was out. So that left Mum and I in the kitchen. I'd imagine other people in a similar situation would be offered tea or coffee and biscuits and a listening ear. It was up to me alone to provide the tea and the biscuit tin was empty. I did love my mother, but now I needed an actual mother. One that spoke sense all of the time and consistently. I sat at the kitchen table quietly weeping into my tea. Mum did her best to make it all alright again. Since the onset of the dementia, she had regressed and often treated us as children, either ourselves as children, or her own brothers and sisters when they were young. This time she had got the person right anyway. She did greet me with a big warm hug but once the tears started, she fumbled in the press for a plaster that no longer existed there and tried to kiss it better. In a way it was comforting to hear those words from my childhood. But this time I'd need more than fairy dust!(less)