ONE YEAR ON

One year on,
One year gone.
My old mum,
One year on.

Kathy was a difficult one,
That's something I should tell,
Born in the years before the war,
Only child of Harold and Nell.
They lived behind his plumbing shop,
And seemed to do quite well,
Then Adolf got ambitious, so
The whole world went to hell.

One year on,
One year on.
My old mum,
One year on.

She was their little princess,
For whom they had high hopes,
But their ambitions for her got crushed
When she discovered blokes.
Wilfully she moved away,
And left them in the lurch,
She said that she was learning to teach
But married a bloke she met at church.

One year on,
One year on.
My old mum,
One year on.

Against parents' advice popped out a kid,
But struggled for another,
It took nine years but finally
My sister had a brother.
We all played happy(ish) families,
For more than thirty years,
But illness took my dad too young,
Leaving memories and tears.

One year on,
One year on.
My old mum,
One year on.

Left alone at fifty three,
She lived nearly three decades more,
Never really well off,
But not exactly poor.
She always hoped that she might find
Another companion (or "something more")
Church and holidays gave her happiness,
And I probably should have done more.

One year on,

One year on.

My old mum,

One year on.

The last few years were brutal,
There ain't no ifs nor buts.
Her final boyfriend upped and died
And sickness seized her guts.
Back and forth to hospital,
Things seemed to get worse and worse,
And about this time one year ago,
Life had written her last verse.

One year on,

One year on.

My old mum,

One year on.

One year on,
One year gone.
My old mum,
Dead and gone.