Bear Time

Whoever said time is linear hasn’t spent much of it in my life. There are lots of types of time. Holiday time runs too fast, so it’s over before we’re ready. Negative time is where I somehow get to school to pick up Bear, even though I was just hanging up that last bit of washing five minutes before the bell. Secret time is when I arrive ten minutes early and grab a chai latte at the Larder (café just over the road to school) to stop it from becoming slow time. But in our house there is mainly ‘Bear Time’. It started when Bear was born. Before that he was in my tummy. Before that was nothing.

Yesterday, he told a friend that my mummy died while he was in my tummy. My friend started to condole with me, but Mum actually died two years before I became pregnant. So she didn’t know a bit about Bear, even for a bit. My missing mum has always been a hole in my own experience as a mother. Then my friend pointed out that all of a woman’s eggs are already  there when she is born, so in the dim (and very) distant past my mum carried Bear in her womb too. Cheers Mum!!!

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About Ms Invisible

I live in the gaps between words, the pauses in music, the invisible space between objects in a landscape. I am a stay-at-home mum. My dog helps me to get enough exercise and my cat keeps me in my place. None of these things have any status in modern western society and yet they are mine and I wouldn't change any of them. Mr. Invisible is the Dennis to my Margaret, the Del to my Raquel, the Fitzwilliam to my Elizabeth, the David to my Elton, the lucky man who shares my life.

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