How easy it is to be a moaning Minnie. I’m sure we all know someone (or ….. gulp, even ourselves sometimes) who get into moaning mode all too easily.
When I look back, which is far easier than looking forward, I know there have been times in my life when someone has asked ” How are you?” and it’s been all too easy to forget all the positives in my life and have a good old moan. I honestly believe that there’s nothing wrong with that occasionally, we all go through difficult, challenging, heartbreaking times when I think we should not chastise ourselves for moaning, especially to our closest friends who are trying to help us, but it’s the habit of moaning that I’m writing about today.
I used to have a Father-in-law who could have moaned for England. Seriously if there was a gold medal in moaning he would have been on the podium each and every day. No matter what you did or what you said, he’d find something to moan about. When we were first married we went to visit him in our old car, he complained that we were obviously not working hard enough and should be ashamed at driving an old banger. A couple of years later we drove up to see him and we had a new car. I couldn’t believe it when he started moaning that it was obviously alright for us, swanning around like we were above everyone else because we had a new car! We just couldn’t win.
His wife, my ex-Mother-in-law, was also a pretty good moaner. She was staying with us for a while (too long!) and I remember asking her if she had any preference for lunch, whether she would like a hot cooked meal, or a light cold lunch. She said she didn’t mind. I even asked her if she was sure and she said yes, anything would be fine. I was immensely busy at work so prepared a salad with some homemade bread. She scowled as I put the meal on the table. “I would have preferred a hot meal” she moaned. I can honestly say that in the twenty-six years I knew her, it was a very rare event that she made a happy, upbeat or positive comment about anything. They were obviously well matched. In fact, thinking about, I can’t think of one instance where she was genuinely pleased with her lot. How very sad.
I believe that this personality trait actually ages you. When I first met my ex in-laws, when I was in my early twenties, I assumed that they had been old parents when my ex-husband was born. Their whole house felt grey and dowdy. Wrongly, I presumed that they were ancient, which to me at the time was anyone past sixty (how our perspective changes as we head toward the higher ‘tens’ ourselves). In reality they were exactly the same age as my parents, and had in fact been extremely young parents. You just would never have believed it had you met them. The difference between them and my parents was that mine had the wonderful knack of finding the humour in everything, including themselves, they never took life too seriously. Their houses were always colourful and full of life – they were not what I would call ‘grey’ people!
Dad had nicknames for everyone, my sister was Prunella Pimple Face and I was Fish Face Charlie – we never knew why – we just were! He had a wonderful sense of timing where humour was concerned, saying just the right word at the right time. Very dry and extremely observant, he did catch a few people off guard at times, which made it all the funnier! He went through some incredibly traumatic times in his life, both during his childhood, during his time in the war and in latter years, due to his health. Amazingly though, through everything, my Dad always found something positive to say about every event in his life.
He had to undergo life threatening surgery when I was in my early teens. He was diagnosed with lung cancer and had to undergo surgery to remove one of his lungs. This was in the late 1960’s and the medical treatments at that time weren’t as advanced as they are now, so it was very dangerous surgery at the time. Dad had undergone a routine medical for the organisation he worked for and much to his horror a large shadow on his lung showed up on his chest X-ray. He was taken into Harefield hospital and underwent an exploratory operation and they confirmed to Mum that he had lung cancer. They gave her the choice whether to operate and possibly prolong his life by a matter of months, or to just leave it and let nature take it’s course. Mum, after much consideration and heart searching, chose the operation. Thank God she did, as when they operated they found that Dad didn’t have lung cancer after all. He had an unusual form of tuberculosis in a cyst in his lung. He was in hospital for quite a long time on a large ward. Everyone commented on how he was such a lively spirit and how he lifted the atmosphere. Within a couple of days of the surgery he was cracking jokes, mainly about himself, and had everyone in stitches (pardon the pun). I remember the sister on the ward saying that she would miss him so much when he went home because he had made their lives so much more enjoyable and how his warmth and humour had affected everyone so positively. I was so proud of my Dad.
Mum too had difficult times but without fail she always managed to find something positive to say. She used to quote Thumper from the film Bambi – “if you can’t say something nice don’t say nothin’ at all” , which is dreadfully difficult to adhere to at times (see above!), but she really did try to live by this, apart from when she and Dad were arguing, and then all their rules went out the window!
When Mum was busy working, more than full-time at times, she and Dad agreed to employ “a lady who does”, in other words, a cleaner. I think it was Dad’s way of avoiding helping with the housework! They employed a woman who left notes for Mum every time she left the house. She complained that the vacuum cleaner wasn’t working properly, or that the polish Mum used wasn’t the right one, or that the broom wasn’t good enough, the house was too hot, the house was too cold etc. The list was endless. Dad called her “Mrs Moan-a-lot”, not to her face of course, but within the family. The awful problem was that the name stuck and we could never remember her real name, which was embarrassing at times!
Mum and Dad had real highs and lows financially throughout their marriage. Usually the highs where when they were both working for large companies and the lows were sometimes when Dad would start a new business and things didn’t always go so well. They both took every opportunity they were ever given, even emigrating to Chicago in their mid-forties. They sold their house and gave away everything they owned and off they went with huge smiles to start their new life. Try as they could, they both hated living there! They came back a year later and in that short time the property market had gone wild in England. Neither of them had employment and their money, having been exchanged into dollars and back again, was nowhere near enough to buy a house again. They moved into a bed sit and looked upon it as an adventure, both of them optimistic that something would ‘turn up’.
Much to everyone’s amazement, but no surprise to them, a large flat came up for rent in the town they both loved, Twickenham. They had enough to put down the deposit and moved in to the two top floors of a large Victorian house. Within a short time they both managed to find work they enjoyed within a short distance of their new home. Two years later the landlord offered to rent them the ground floor flat as well and they jumped at it. He was fine about them restoring the two flats back into one very beautiful large house. Another year on and the landlord suddenly needed to liquidate his assets and offered Mum and Dad the whole house at a crazily low knock down price. Of course they couldn’t refuse. They bought the house, did a little work on it, and sold it six months later for a massive profit, putting them in a stronger position than when they had gone to America. Mum took great delight in telling everyone that she had known everything would be alright. Through all the ups and downs I never once heard them complain. Dad used to say it was better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all. Mum being more of a romantic would quote, “it is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”. Looking back I realise how amazingly lucky I was to have such a pair of positive optimistic parents, which at the time I suppose I assumed everyone had.
Strangely I feel like my journey through life has always shown me two sides of everything. I do believe that my parents were a couple of old souls, who made light of their problems and put a positive spin on their difficulties and challenges. I wonder if my ex-in laws were younger souls. In reality, they had very little to complain about it, but moaned about inconsequential things most of the time. My ex-in laws were pessimists about everything and saw life as a dull routine to be gotten through, whereas my parents were invariably optimistic and saw life as exciting and enlightening. How fortunate I was to have chosen them. I can appreciate why I feel that life is full of lessons because that is exactly what Mum and Dad taught me, and importantly, they taught me to ignore the dull routine and always look on the bright side of life!
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