Another Mother's Day

    Another Mothering Sunday and this one I'm spending in Barcelona with Son and little Grandson. Son's partner is in Warsaw for the weekend, with her Mother and Grandmother who is very poorly. She is very old - in her nineties - and seems to be fading away. It is inevitable, I know, but nevertheless very sad.
    I woke up very early thinking (wrongly) that the clocks had sprung forward! So I had a lazy cup of tea in bed, and then a very tearful phone call from Daughter, who was terribly upset that I was not with her - for the first time in her life!! She was sobbing, and obviously feeling quite desolate. It didn't help that neither of  her children were there either, having spent the night with the latest ex-partner, father of Gracie and adopted Father of Will. Oh God, life is so complicated these days. I could do very little from here but commiserate and send long distance love.
    Later, after a very nice croissant and coffee in my local cafe, I wandered over to Son's apartment, where he was entertaining not just one, but two small boys: one of grandson's little friends was staying for the weekend as his jet-setting parents had gone off for a party in Ireland.. So Son was coping with two small children on his own on Mother's Day (and the night had been a bit of a nightmare as they hadn't slept very well). To add to the general chaos, the little visitor had a stomach bug and was having to rush to the loo very frequently. Poor little chap, he was pretty good-natured about it, and when we all went out for a bit of lunch, he coped very well and managed to eat his burger without any problems. All I can say is it brought back memories of many a Mother's Day spent alone with my small children, and though it was sometimes a bit lonely, each one was lit up with their love, hugs and special little gifts and cards. I had to laugh when little Grandson said, with feeling, "We don't have to do a card do we?"  How things  have changed.
    Yesterday it was nice and sunny here, for a change, and I decided to set off and do a bit of sight-seeing and also go in search of a little hand- painted bowl to replace the one which has been chipped by Grandson. But oh, I'm the world's worst tourist - I'm rubbish at sight-seeing and I don't much like shopping, which is what it seems to be about. I wandered up and down the Ramblas, and once was enough for me. I sat down to gaze around at intervals and did see some amazing buildings, but on the whole I'm not cut out to be a tourist. I finally dragged myself back home, having become an expert on the glittery kind of Spanish ceramics that I wouldn't give houseroom to (sorry, I think that's a split infinitive). So pleased was I to get back here that I made a celebratory cup of tea and then promptly fell asleep on the sofa.