I was 8 when I last saw my mum in hospital, she had on a headscarf and I thought 'who threw flour over her ?
I remember little about her except her clothes, humor, 8 white alsatians and chasing my dad down the garden path.
I was then sent to purgatory Llandudno, Wales with the most hated person in my life, my sister.
Mind you, (good point) when I kissed my cousin Susan 7, was my 1st sexual arousal, never forgotten.
Years later time spent with my father 'the bitch had decamped to "ban the bomb when I was 13..
He revealed that our family doctor had assisted her in dying, probably morphine.
Dad had been in the RAMC and had seen far more death than me.
Probably during my 'drug enhancing years 1965, I developed an interest in dying, becoming an ambulance man
due to me not becoming a fireman..
5 years of great fun, saving lives and driving like a maniac, not much compares..
Religion was a big interest for me at time, I tried a few 'eastern delights..
I became a cook watching my mum, but hey people die just don't let it hurt to much.
Listen to the screams of a 2 am friday night drunken car crash, covered in blood, as fireman cut out
the broken body you cradle knowing it's all to late, he's done..makes you think..
Ps: She was dying of lung cancer...
