Mothers and Daughters

That title could fill a book, I'm sure it has filled several libraries of books. As an only girl and the eldest of my generation of siblings and cousins, everything befell me first. My mother is also the eldest in her family. Perhaps we both shouldered too much responsibility, too young. It seems to me, my family has a tacit assumption of my limitless capacity to survive, recover, regenerate and succeed. Indeed, I could have perpetuated that myth myself, with a bundle of degrees, two kids and a successful practice, I had a few bob to spend at one time, I spent it on travel and memories for my children. At least, I didn't lose it on shares, property, pension or redundancies, so that's something I suppose. And, while I'm working out ways to survive this one and share with others their varied experiments of survival, I notice a change in my mother and me.

She is a great one for a bargain, whether she needs the object of discount or not. The zenith of bargains these days is on the Reduced shelf at Tesco, the one with the 'just about to go out of date' food. The size of this shelf differs from location to location. In Ballsbridge for instance, you would be hard pressed to find it, in Dundrum it is discreet but evident. Where my mother lives, a very nice area, I think it may need bodyguards soon; such are her stories of people scuffling and scrambling to get at the stuff when it goes on the shelf. Reader, my mother has found a new purpose. If bargain hunting was a sport she'd be a sprinter, she times her visit on Sunday evening, phones me from the aisle and checks if I'd like chickens or steak. There was a time when I'd recoil in horror at the very thought of a chicken for 90c. But these last few months we are more than amenable to share in her bargains. Not only meat, fowl and vegetable selections, but she arrives bearing bouquets of lilies and roses, and gets me to guess how much, usually down from 20 euro to 50c. She hopes that I am feeding the tenant, I would if he was here, I say, all he wants is a cup of tea. I've been wondering should I tidy his room, CC#2 objects, 'No, mum, give the guy his space, that's all he wants.' OK I think I get it.

I don’t know where my mother sources her news, but she chides me for my lax security, says that burglars go around with metal detectors to find your jewellery hoard, that they have a market for copper and have been removing hot press cylinders, so not only could you find yourself relieved of your treasures, but your house in flood. It’s all too bleak but if there is one good thing about this Recession, it is a very different value on 'things' and relationships.