Ra Auld Maw!

Saturday 23:51 p.m.
My auld maw is 89 years old tomorrow. The trains don't run to Bellshill on Sundays, so I won't be there.

I started intervening in my auld maw's life when she couldn't get to sleep. She'd had a lung haemorrhage and had been a bit old and ill. Everything seemed to cheer up for the auld maw when she started listening to the yoga nidra tape.

About twenty past one, the third CD from the devil worshippers goes on, and I must admit, the description of emptiness on it is superb. About two, the CD stops and I look over and up at the auld maw and she's not moving, but staring straight ahead, lying there in the lion pose on her bed.

The auld maw is the last of her primary school class to be alive. The auld maw can remember standing beneath the banner in Mossend at the start of a march during the General Strike.

Here's to the auld maw! Happy birthday!