Photograph

This is the first photograph I ever took with my digital camera, Christmas, 2002.

It's Ian with his parents.

I Just wanted to share.

We lived in Armadale, then. We had a lovely house. I miss it sometimes. Living in Edinburgh is fabulous, though our house isn't as fabulous. It's a trade-off, I guess. If only I could have dug that house up and brought it with me.

I'm such a materialistic pig at times.

I'd give up a million of those houses if I could get Ian's Mother back. She died last year.

I've no idea what it's like to lose one's Mother.

My mother, whenever she's on the telephone to me, forever informs me of my Father's state of health. She hears the news from my eldest brother. My parents divorced in 1981 and have never spoken since. He was a very nasty man.

If I had a pound for every time I've been told that my Father's at death's door, I'd be a very rich person indeed. However, this time, it seems he's not only knocking on the door and ringing the bell, he's actually kicking it in. Mum told me he's swollen like a balloon and can hardly move. It's a matter of days, so the doctors say.

I couldn't care less. It's like hearing a conversation about someone on the bus. So, he's going to die. What does that mean to me? Absolutely nothing. I don't know why anyone bothers to tell me.

I just can't help but to think how cruel, even how weird life is. There's my Father on his death bed and I couldn't care one way or the other. Ian's Mother died last year and he broke his heart.

Just because someone happens to be your parent does not mean you love them and they love you. That, I suppose, is obvious. Love, ambivalence and hate... Ok, feel ambivalence or hatred for someone, they die, you can't care less. Love someone and you break your heart.

I still think it's a price worth paying. I'm sure of it.