May 18, 2017 prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less) write a wise story. It can be about wisdom, expressing wisdom or advice for turning 50! It can be a wise-cracking story, too. Go where wisdom leads you.
Mum was wise, and rarely shared her wisdom. Dad wasn’t sure and hid behind aphorisms
don’t clap throw money
always leave them laughing
it’s a wise man who sees his own toes
it’s cold enough to freeze a witch’s tit
I don’t keep a dog to bark myself
I’m not sure which was the first piece of wisdom mum shared that I recall but the one that’s stayed with me most is
you didn’t ask to be born
From 12 to 17 mum had to look after her dying father and then her two young brothers; then within a couple of years of her two children moving out she had both mother and mother in law to look after – for ten years.
She hated the idea, in an intense visceral way, that her two sons, who she had done her best to make into self-reliant confident young men would ever feel a duty to their parents, a burden. No, for her, if we were to have any sort of relationship it had to be based on a mutual respect and because we, we children, wanted to have one.
The result was she and dad felt no compunction about leading their own lives, going abroad, off on trips. They had a wide and varied circle of friends and interests and were never at a loss for what to do. They were interesting and interested and when we spent time together, fitting in around our mutual diaries, it was fun and wanted, not because of a perceived obligation.
She made no demands, she accommodated where she could and our relationship grew into one of a friendship.
The result? We spent a lot of time visiting each other and enjoying each other’s company.
I’ve tried to follow suit but having children, loving them to bits, and wanting to know what they are doing, now they are both freshly pressed adults brings home how hard this is. But I will keep trying. After all mum set the standard.
And this week’s flash… well wisdom comes in many forms
That thing that’s before godliness
Paul looked at his wife’s face. ‘Looks like you need more than tea.’
‘That woman is impossible.’ Mary accepted the wineglass. ‘Mrs Wise. Talk about misnamed.’
Paul settled back into his seat. ‘Go on. What now?’
‘Milk in the washing machine. She thought it was the fabric conditioner.’
‘Aren’t the bottles different?’
‘She cracked the conditioner so decanted it into an old water bottle last time. I labelled it carefully. Calling her a cleaner is such a misnomer.’
‘We could look for a new one?’
‘Like Miss Peaberry? Remember what she di wit your toothbrush?’
‘So more wine?’