Time marches on they say and when I first heard that, it was my mother who said it in her somewhat scary voice...she was good at those old sayings and I learned a lot of them from her. This too shall pass, she would say. The worm has turned, that was a good one. Sober as a judge;
drunk as a lord. And toward the end of her life, more's the pity.
More's the pity was a really irritating one for some reason. Maybe because we had never heard her say it before so it reminded us that this dieing woman was using a part of her brain that she had covered up before or using a part of her brain that was all that was left. It was disconcerting. Plus, more's the pity sounded so old and Victorian and sounded like, Too bad, or (as I heard her say once) tough titties. Now that one I certainly didn't like hearing from my own mother's lips, but she had that rebellious, tough side to her too, as well as her cultured veneer of classical music and fine clothing.
This time of year I miss them all, with all their faults and foibles.
♥
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