Friday Facts #1
Rather than do one of those "100 things about me" type things and inspired by the Friday's feast thing that Gemmak does I thought I would combine the two ideas so here is Friday Facts #1.

My mum died when I was 7, but for years I thought I was 5.
She died of cancer, apparently triggered by a car accident that she and my dad were in.
My dad for whatever reason brought up my brother and I without ever discussing mum and for years we didn't even know where she was buried.
It was only after my Nan died that Dad decided we should know.
Wifey, being a bit morbid (Irish catholic families are apparently all a bit morbid) kept asking why I had never wanted to know or visit her grave and to be truthful I don’t know why I never asked. Dad never really talked about her and neither did my brother or I.
After much nagging from Wifey I visited her grave and was shocked to find out that I was 7 when she died and not 5 as I had always thought (approx 25yrs).
To this day I still don't know any real details and I have very few memories of her.
I've only visited her grave a couple of times and wifey thinks this is strange as in Ireland they are completely obsessed with dying and even announce any local deaths on the radio (saturday afternoons on Galway fm, if I remember correctly).
I always said that I was not bothered about talking about my mum, but finding out I was 2 years older than I thought when she died obviously shocked me a bit and now I wonder if the fact I have no real memory of mum is due to the fact that dad didn't keep her memory alive by talking about her. I also wonder if that is why I don't feel close to dad.
This post was only supposed to be the first paragraph.