thirty-five - mother and son

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Wish Mama L a happy birthday for me, won't you, darling? I hope you'll be alright this afternoon. Thinking of you. I love you xx

George slips his mobile phone away into his pocket, having read the text message from his beloved husband. On such a bitterly cold day as Christmas Eve, he doesn't wish to keep the device out for long — for it would mean exposing his hands to the dry, icy air. He quickly double checks to make sure his car is locked, before making his way through the colossal grounds, in which his mother rests peacefully. He has never visited her grave before this day, for he has never quite been able to summon the mental strength to do so. Today, he has decided he will face up to the challenge.

At last, he locates her headstone, sat beautifully between two other stones belonging to strangers. For a moment, the sight is surreal; as though he can't quite believe that the name of his favourite woman is written on such a poignant piece.

LESLEY ANGOLD PANAYIOTOU

24 DECEMBER 1937 — 27 AUGUST 2014

AGED 76

A SPECIAL MOTHER, WIFE, & FRIEND

TO LIVE IN THE HEARTS OF THOSE WE LOVE IS NOT TO DIE

"Well, I'm not going to pretend — this sight stings a bit." A melancholy chuckle accompanies his words, as he kneels down in front of the grave. "I'm sorry it's taken almost four months to come and see you, Mum. It's not been the easiest ride of my life, since you died. Oh — but happy birthday, you old git. How old would you be now? Seventy-seven. Levi sent his birthday wishes, too."

He pauses a moment, remaining silent, as if waiting for her to answer what he's saying. He acknowledges that this is impossible, so instead he enters a state of monologue. "You know, Mum — these last four months have been absolutely ridiculous. You've probably been sitting up there laughing your arse off. Watching your youngest child have an existential crisis at the age of fifty-one, just because you decided to ditch me. Sometimes, I feel like ... if I didn't laugh, I'd cry.

"A lot has happened in those few months, you know. Gem has started Year Four, and Kieran started Year Three. They're growing up so fast. There was a bit of a mess involving the school at one point — you'd have probably gone in there, all guns blazing, and kicked ass. Some lass in Kieran's class was bullying him because of Levi and I, but we sorted it in the end. Turns out, her mother is a complete psycho. Did you see when she tried to attack me in the headteacher's office? She got done for that, did you know? Arrested after school one afternoon. That's what I call karma. But the crazy thing is, that lass's dad was actually one of the fuckers who attacked us back in the eighties. What are the odds of that happening, hey? What a small world. He's actually a decent guy now, though. We've become good friends with him.

"But don't even get me started on what happened when we all came down to London for the weekend, a couple of months ago. I swear, wherever our family goes, we bring trouble with us. Levi was nearly murdered by some crazy guy called Mackenzie. He's another one we indirectly knew. Steph's ex, of all things. Oh — and his little brother was another one of the bastards who attacked me and Levi in Reading. He's the one who got beaten up in prison, though. I'll never understand violence, really.

"After that incident, Levi started therapy. He tried to talk me into trying it, but at the start, I wasn't having any of it. I'm a stubborn fuck, aren't I, hey, Mum? Well, eventually he persuaded me. That night, do you remember? When I was in London with Andrew ... and I went off the rails. I nearly jumped off Southwark Bridge. That was where you got attacked by that homophobic prick. The one who killed you. The reason why I'm here today, rather than at yours and Dad's house celebrating with you. They took you away from me, and I'll never forgive that. We're still waiting to find out what that cold-blooded killer gets sentenced. God knows why it's taking so long. Maybe they're taking their time, because it's so serious.

The Things That I Know || George MichaelWhere stories live. Discover now