My mum

I thought I'd write an update about my mum here. I spoke of her in earlier blogs and all the crap that she's been through with the cancer. She's through the worst of it now and only needs to attend hospital for appointments to ensure she's still clear of the cancer but she is still fighting her corner. Every day she hears stories from people who have to experience the ineptitude of the politicians who decide on the cancer services in Donegal. She has made herself very unpopular with many of those politicians but has become a champion for those who are diagnosed with cancer. My mum is an awesome figure and deserves recognition for this.

This is a copy of a poem she wrote in response to the Jenny Joseph poem on growing old

Why wait to grow old?

By Ann Mc Gowan

Why wait to grow old to do what you want, do it now!
I never turned down an experience
Unless it might kill me, even then, I tried a few
I've worn every colour of the rainbow
And had most of them in my hair
I've climbed rock faces and rolled down hills
Some when I was not so young.

I hate Brandy
But a wee drop of whiskey is good for the soul or vodka or tequila or beer
Satin sandals, sequined clogs or four inch red stilettos.
Long wafting dresses and tight jeans, mini skirts and long boots and hot pants
I've worn them all
Sitting on the pavement is not all it's cracked up to be
But I've lain on it, danced on it, sang on it and acted on it, I had fun

Sobriety of my youth? I don't remember that
I tried it all, hippies and rock and roll
Lovers and those not so loving
I never regretted a day
They were my lessons in life
Some harder than others to learn
But it was living

Bare foot in the rain with flowers in my hair
And in my stockings and my toes
Late night swims and dancing til dawn
Beach barbecues that started at one in the morning
And ended when the sun came up
Who wants beer mats or pens or papers or a life without crazy memories?
Kisses and love in the fresh air
Crazy affairs that were swift or long
Heart break and joy

I am a lesson to my children, not a good example
I laugh with them and shout and sing with them and share their experiences
And run through the grass bare footed with my grandchildren
Or along the sea shore
I want gaudy clothes, big hats, wild nights and ribald songs
I want to live, I want people to know I was here
I want to embrace life and for it to embrace me
And it does
I want crazy friends, And here are some of the craziest, come meet them The Mad Hatters