Wordsley, Stourbridge, England: 12 degrees, cold, slightly sunny, overcast and with showers.
Sunday is traditionally a day when I try to be alone in the morning, enjoy quality time with myself, and do what I want. Today was no different; I exercised alone, worked upstairs in my bedroom, and basically just relaxed.
My mother was pottering about upstairs, coming in and out of my bedroom all the time. I think she wants to spy on what I am doing, what I am going to do, and who I am talking to. And maybe find something to complain about or to disapprove of.
I feel very suffocated living in my mother’s house. It has become much worse since I started going out with Julie. We’ve had some disagreements. I’m just defending my position; I want to be happy with the person I like and not feel guilty about it. My mother, on the other hand, doesn’t want me to have a relationship with anyone and wants me to return to live with Nalva in Brazil.
The funny thing was that when I was married to Nalva, she would heavily criticise her and put her down, even belittle her. I feel that regardless of who my brother and I were with, she would belittle that woman. The main problem between my brother and our mother is my brother’s wife, Debbie.
When I was with Cibele, the issue was with her, not me. Now, it is clear that my mother tends to be a control freak and seems to think no woman is good enough for her sons. Of course, neither my brother nor I are perfect, but we try, or at least we have tried, to be good husbands, partners, and fathers. However, my mother always seems to be at odds with our partners.
I am not a psychologist and cannot precisely diagnose this psychological or mental syndrome, but what I do understand is that it is becoming increasingly unbearable and highly toxic. I do not want it to impact my relationship with Julie.
I feel as if I am living on a time bomb that can go off at any moment without warning. On top of that, my mother is extremely opinionated, always giving her views on any situation or subject, at any time, without being asked or invited, and acting as if her opinion is always right. You cannot contradict or doubt her at any point, and if you do, her tone suddenly shifts to one of disrespect or impatience, which quickly turns into an attack in the name of defending herself.
We are meant to have lunch at the Elton Centre in Stourbridge twice a month. There is a community lunch for elderly people, a three-course Sunday meal for only £10 each. My mother loves to attend. For her, it is simply a way to avoid cooking and, more importantly, the washing up afterwards.
I would see Julie either in the late afternoon or early evening. Besides having lunch with my mother, I could spend some time walking around Stourbridge High Street and do a little shopping, as some of the shops are open on a Sunday.
The lunch at the Elton Centre was delightful. The usual crowd, who go there for their lunch every fortnight, always receive me warmly, and their company is very pleasant. There were one or two faces absent, obviously due to illness or health issues, which is, coincidentally, one of the main topics among many older people. The other common topic was reminiscing about the old days and discussing the decline of England today.
In some ways, it’s very true about England.
I felt that the atmosphere was lighter and friendlier this time compared to previous occasions. I spoke to the head chef, Sarah, who also happens to be our neighbour by coincidence. She offered me either chicken or pork, since everyone had already made their choice during their last visit. I told her to give me whatever was most convenient for her, and they brought me pork, which was very good.
The starter was a delicious asparagus soup, and my main course was pork with mashed potatoes, vegetables, stuffing, and gravy—again excellent. The dessert, a crumble with custard, was terrific. Obviously, the lunch is very English; in some ways, it makes a nice change from Brazilian food, which I’ve grown accustomed to over a long period.
I left my mother after the coffee and the draw because there’s usually a raffle for small prizes. We buy tickets before lunch, the draw is afterwards, and then I went to the High Street.
Surprisingly, quite a few stores are open on a Sunday. I visited my favourite shop, the Pound Saver, similar to the 1.99 Chinese shops in Rio. After buying some things for myself and a bar of chocolate for Julie’s parents, I started my walk home, down the lower High Street, into the old Wharf, and along the canal.
Walking along the canal is truly delightful; the contact with nature feels beautifully surreal and sublime, with a vibrant mix of wildlife colours and peaceful quietness, distant and even isolated from the town and traffic.
When I got home, my mother was already there. I went upstairs for a rest, and at about 6, Julie messaged me to meet at 7:00. An hour later, we were in the car, heading to the old Wharf pub where we had lunch yesterday. I had already walked past it on my way back today.
I think because it was a Sunday evening, the pub was relatively quiet. We bought some drinks, went to our favourite spots on the right-hand side in the corner, and sat on a red upholstered bench with a table, then chilled out.
The pub had a small, open cupboard that served as a rack, holding a variety of games, including board games, cards, and children’s games for patrons to enjoy. I looked and chose Connect 4, a game that was very popular when I was a child. We played it, but Julie thought it was a bit childish; maybe because I’m a man, I loved it.
Julie opened her bag and took out a pack of playing cards. We played Gim Rumm, both of us very out of practice. We played a best-of-three, and I won 2-1. We stayed in the pub for about two and a half hours before leaving. As it started to get cold, we shared a quick kiss in the car park before she dropped me off at home.
It was a lovely evening; we hadn’t planned to go out, but it turned out to be very enjoyable. Sometimes, it’s refreshing to step outside of our usual routines to break the monotony. It’s also essential for us to liberate ourselves from the cages we create, which limit and confine us.
In bed by 11:00 p.m.
Thank you.
Thanks for reading this blog post. Please explore my other posts and share your thoughts in the comments section.
Richard
