My mother: Well, someone who never had the best cards dealt to her in life. She was born in 1930, and was 9 years old when WW2 happened. she got evacuatedto various folks who were indifferent and uncaring. She came from London and was sent north to escape the blitz. After the war, she went back to the seaside town she knew a ayoungster and met my dad in a dance hall. The rest is history...
Being a poor working class lass, I expect that my dad, whose parents were obviously better off than hers was a big attraction at first. they got married, but he was what they call ' the black sheep' of his family. he drank a lot, even after settling down and gettting married. A clever man, but not wise or mature in his judgement. enough about him, though.
My mother wanted the best in life for her two sons. I remember that when i was young, I got taken to music and danceing lessons, we got books to read, and it was always mother who read to us, who took us to art galleries and museums.
The trouble really started when I was 8 or 9. I came third in my class, and was told that I should really try to come first. I was encouraged to think about going to University, because it wass the only way to make enough money to be happy. the trouble was that although I was good at English and French, I was hopeless at Maths, and most good jobs needed maths at entry level. Also, I needed 5 'O' levels to go to Uni. as it was, i only got 3. Somehow, in dealing with Mother, I get that 'nothing is ever good enough'. Take her to tea at the ritz and the tea has to be weak, and very hot. even at the Ritz, i doubt that they could ever get it right.
Although my dad was middle class by birth, he dropped into certain working class ways very quickly. he sneered at education and trying to better oneself, whereas mother was determined to make sure that her kids rose in society, even though she herself could not.
Now, there is a sort of stalemate that has ensued. I am fifty, but I do a job that I enjoy. I could go for supervisor and then a manager - i have held management positions in other companies before, but thework/ life balance was wrong for me. as a specialist, i have the freedom to work in my own field in my own way, and i am respected by my bosses, my peers and my regular customers alike.
My mother, however, is still someone who bitterly complains that nothing is ever good enough. This led to enormous problems at my dad's funeral. I will go into that later, if permitted. She tends to hate men on principle, sad to say. My wife considers hereslf a Feminist, and has her own job with her own money - but isn't someone who bashes men and blames them for what's going on. The trouble is that my wife is really very clever and my mother really isn't.
In summarry, my mother is someone who doesn't like foreigners, or people of other races. She thinks that the racist right wing parties have got a point. She thinks life would be wonerful 'if she were a man' and isn't really up to speed on the isssues she reads the Daily Mail absolutely uncritically. In short, my wife loathes her and I am beginning to fel the same way too. She may be my mother, but, were she someone I met at work, i would try to avoid her, I must admit.
Hopefully, I will find people here who can relate to what I say, but let me make clear that if anyone else's mother also insists on perfection in life, I deeply sympathise.