inheritence

Oscar Wilde famously said that it was the tragedy of women that, as they got older, they became more like their mothers and that the tragedy of men was that they don’t.

I beg to differ as I can all to vividly recognise traits that I have inherited down the maternal line. My mother has always had low self esteem and has spent an inordinate amount of time trying to hard to please others and avoid upsetting them, whilst bottling up a lot of frustration and resentment. She is overly sentimental and, having grown up during WW2 has a strong waste-not-want-not mentally which has lead to it being very difficult for her to throw things away.

As I was growing up, I appreciated her more relaxed attitude compared with that of the acutely house proud mothers of friends. Now, seeing a house swamped with clutter and a diabolical kitchen, I see the downside. Even more uncomfortably, I also see how much like her, in spite of my efforts, I have become.

I hope I have also inherited her kindness and generosity towards others and loyalty from my father but in times of difficulty, it is the downside that is all to easy to see.