Margo-dreamcatcher
Chatty person, chatty mind that's me always have been .
At school, work and play. I am a good listener, when others choose to share their life's experiences. Today I embrace Ti Chi ,Reiki healing, Yoga and the writing group whilst always listening to the angels for guidance. Putting pen to paper calms the chatter. |
Doreen
At the bar of my local Irish Pub her familiar accent made it easy to start chatting. It was her 21st birthday bash and to a 17-year-old, new to the big city she seemed so worldly and wise. She became the big sister I never had although only coming up to my shoulder, which we joked about often. Maybe it her name Doreen, the familiar name of my Godmother and Mum’s best friend that made our friendship so easy.
It was the September holiday weekend in Scotland, my Mum and Dad were coming for their first visit to London. Having no space to accommodate them Doreen, despite having not met them before offered to put them up in her spare room and we agreed I would stay over to use the flat as a base for all the sightseeing I had planned.
That first evening as I was preparing the meal in the kitchen my Mum, Dad and Doreen were chatting away easily around the table. They had a common background with Glasgow being their home town. Doreen mentioned being brought up in the Gorbals. My Mum started reminiscing about that when she was a young woman the uncle of her best friend, also named Doreen and his wife lived in that area and they would visit them, helping out where they could with their fast-growing family.
Mum went on to recall visiting just after the arrival of the newest baby, who was fast asleep in the bottom drawer of a chest.
“Meet Doreen, named after my favourite niece.” Doreen’s uncle had announced proudly. From across the table, Doreen dropped her cutlery.
At the bar of my local Irish Pub her familiar accent made it easy to start chatting. It was her 21st birthday bash and to a 17-year-old, new to the big city she seemed so worldly and wise. She became the big sister I never had although only coming up to my shoulder, which we joked about often. Maybe it her name Doreen, the familiar name of my Godmother and Mum’s best friend that made our friendship so easy.
It was the September holiday weekend in Scotland, my Mum and Dad were coming for their first visit to London. Having no space to accommodate them Doreen, despite having not met them before offered to put them up in her spare room and we agreed I would stay over to use the flat as a base for all the sightseeing I had planned.
That first evening as I was preparing the meal in the kitchen my Mum, Dad and Doreen were chatting away easily around the table. They had a common background with Glasgow being their home town. Doreen mentioned being brought up in the Gorbals. My Mum started reminiscing about that when she was a young woman the uncle of her best friend, also named Doreen and his wife lived in that area and they would visit them, helping out where they could with their fast-growing family.
Mum went on to recall visiting just after the arrival of the newest baby, who was fast asleep in the bottom drawer of a chest.
“Meet Doreen, named after my favourite niece.” Doreen’s uncle had announced proudly. From across the table, Doreen dropped her cutlery.
Margo-dreamcatcher© 2017 (All Rights Reserved)