Note to new readers: Message from your Mother is a series of letters written by Lilly to her daughter which are usually based on their most recent phone call or in this case recent visit. The letters are often written in the kind of irrational way that seems to come naturally to most mothers when speaking to their children no matter how old those children happen to be. You will always find a hidden message though if you look hard enough.
I'm sorry I embarrassed you.
I know I'm getting too old to be doing that kind of thing now but.....but it really, really, wasn't my fault that I got stuck in the doors at your office.
They nearly killed me.
It happened because I was too busy taking photos of everything that opened and shut and failed to see the disaster closing in on me.
Let me try and explain.
We bloggers take our jobs seriously. We are like paparazzi journalists. So, it means that we need our camera with us at all times, just in case. Well in case we come across a good story that can, with a sprinkling of magic, be turned into a half decent post without any consideration for the privacy, rights, dignity, views, requests, pleading, lawyers phone calls or bribes of family, friends or even perfect strangers.
I was really happy when you asked me to check out your 30th floor office with those gorgeous panoramic views. The excitement must have gone to my head. I think possibly.....altitude sickness had a bearing....
It's just that when you had your back turned (I knew you would disapprove) I was taking pictures of the view, the river below, your office, how tidy your desk was, the name plate on your door, your matching desk accessories (a colour I so approve of), the chair you swirl in, your business cards and ...... Was that so wrong? For a mother to be proud of her child and how high up in the world she had come? Thirty floors is an achievement. I only ever made it to the fourth floor.....
Then, when you asked me to go and check out another part of the building I dutifully followed. Except, you didn't warn me that these modern architect designed buildings have equally modern architect designed electronic glass doors.
Designed to harm.
Now I finally know what these companies mean when they throw around the term natural attrition in these dark economic times.
The doors were open when I walked through them and naturally I assumed they would stay open.
How was I to know that they stay open for a few seconds and then slowly close.
In the shape of an inverted V.
And I just happened to be standing at the tip of the V.
Blissfully unaware of the trauma to come.
You disappeared no doubt thinking I was right behind you.
I stood there awestruck. The Christmas Tree was amazing.
I raised my arms to quickly take a photo before you reappeared.
I didn't hear them coming. They were silently rolling round the bend. (For some unknown reason I feel like breaking into a Johnny Cash song - I hear the train a comin´it´s rolling round the bend and I ain´t seen the sunshine since I don´t know when, I´m stuck in Folsom prison, and time keeps draggin´ on).
I felt an enormous pressure on my arms - the glass doors were closing and crushing me. I was standing in the f****** path of the door. I was stuck. I screamed and tried to worm my way out.
I managed to wriggle my way through the door only to find myself some 2 inches taller and somewhat narrower (I think the technical term is called redistribution. If any plastic surgeons are reading this, as I imagine they would be, I want you to know that I coined the term first and I'm having first dibs at patenting the procedure depending on the cost of fancy glass doors).
Anyway, back to you. You came looking for me none the wiser to the drama that had unfolded moments earlier. Don't you recall you looked me up and down and told me you thought I had lost weight and asked me if my rosacea was playing up because my face was all red?
I decided to keep 'mum'. Thinner and taller is good despite the pain right? After all, nothing had been harmed in the making of my documentary to show your grandparents EXCEPT ME!
Well now it seems I was wrong.
It seems the whole thing was captured on your office's CCTV.
I'm no doubt humour fodder for the masses. Well, just remember people that I am the victim here.
I can understand your humiliation and your need to deny that you are related to me or even know who the hell I am. It's a harsh call but I completely understand.
Tell me, does the footage also have sound? Just wondering. Because that could be really embarrassing. Pain makes you say terrible things.
I have pictures too! Of zebra stripes running down my arms. Black, purple and blue. Like a Hockney gone incredibly wrong.
Anyway I digress, do you suppose it would be reasonable if you just emailed security and told them that if they really want to know how some strange woman got captured in their doors with a camera in her hands then they should just read my blog?
Mmmm, I guess you're yelling right about now.......
Well I'm sorry .....
I just want you to know that next time, if there does happen to be a next time, I won't be tempted to bring my camera with me and get distracted.....
Your Mother xx (your still considerably thinner and taller mother -I guess one day I will bounce back - more than likely over Christmas).
PS. If the worst should happen as a result of this 'accident', and they demote you to the 4th floor or something, I still have all the pics of what the view was like from the 30th floor just so you never forget. They do say hell has harbour views and they could be right after all.
PPS. Please don't mention that old people's home that you have picked out for me on the other side of the country again. I have another 40 years before I'm due to go in one of those and no amount of talking about it is going to make me act your age, ok?