June 6, 2025 Diary
After twentyone years of marriage, one evening my wife, Emma, turned to me and said,
James, you ought to ask another woman out for dinner and a film.
I was taken aback. She smiled faintly and added, I love you, but I know theres another lady who also loves you and has been waiting for a scrap of your time.
That other woman was my mother, Margaret. She had been living alone in a small flat in Manchester ever since my father died nineteen years ago. Between work, the three kids and the endless chores, I hardly ever saw her.
That night I rang her up and said,
Mum, how about we go out for dinner and a movie tomorrow? Just the two of us.
Is everything alright, love? she asked, a hint of worry in her voice.
Mums always assume an unexpected call means bad news.
No, Mum, everythings fine. I just want to spend an evening with you.
She fell silent for a heartbeat, then replied gently, Id love that.
On Friday after a long day at the office I drove to her flat. She was already waiting, dressed up, smiling, in the same navy dress she wore on the night we celebrated my wedding anniversary.
I told the neighbours Im going on a date with my son, she chuckled, and theyre all eager to hear how it went.
We slipped into a tiny, cosy bistro on Deansgate. She took my arm the way she used to when I was a boy, tender and careful. When the menu arrived, I read it aloud because the print was tiny for her eyes.
I used to read menus to you when you were little, she said with a grin.
Now its my turn, Mum, I replied.
We talked for agesabout our lives, old memories, everything that had accumulated between us over the years. We missed the film, but we didnt mind. When I drove her home, she said, Id love to do this again, but next time Ill be the one who invites. I smiled and agreed.
A few days later Margaret suffered a sudden heart attack and passed away. I never got the chance to say a proper goodbye.
Weeks later a plain envelope arrived. Inside was a copy of the bistro bill, amounting to £58, and a handwritten note:
I paid in advance. I wasnt sure Id be there, but I wanted to settle a dinner for twofor you and your wife. Youll never know how much that night meant to me. Love you, son.
Thats when the truth hit me: never postpone the words I love you. Give time to those who matter. Because family isnt something for later; family is now.
