Pennies from Heaven

michaelgcasey Uncategorized 13/09/2019 4 Minutes

Pennies from Heaven ©

Michael Casey

Pennies from Heaven is the name of a famous play here in England, it was written by Dennis Potter, Harry’s bigger and much cleverer brother. I had to Google his name and it said tv show in 1978, so I’m even older that I thought I was. I do remember the writer being interviewed by which time he was dying of cancer and was sipping morphine from a container as he was being interviewed. Now the strongest thing I take is paracetamol and Movelat painkilling gel. I cannot take other stuff as it does not mix with the ACE inhibitor for my heart, which stops my heart racing to 320RPM as it did after my bypass. My point though is that I’m not “high” on anything, I have something else, an IMAGINATION.

This is just an introduction, I really am going to talk about something else, chocolate cake, and no not the Crowded House song either, and I can remember a radio host introducing us all to them many years ago. I lied it’s just that my sister spotted a cheap cake so she bought it, and we are slowly eating it, as it’s just so rich. So if I stop talking it’s because I’ve gone to the kitchen for yet another slice. I had not had any chocolate for days and was tempted to tackle the hill to get some when my sister arrived with the cake. We are very close, I ring her just as she is about to ring me, and vice versa, this time it was chocolate cake. See Siblings DO have their uses.

But I’m still lying because I want to talk about something else, am I like your sad old uncle who’d forget his arse if it was not tied onto him. My Aunt in Ballyheigh used to send her husband to the shops and that was a bit of a drive away. Did you remember to bring the Ham she’d say, but you didn’t ask me, but you should have remembered that I’d forget and you should have brought it anyway. How can I remember to bring it, if you forget to ask me to bring it in the first place. And on the conversation would circle. But Michael is here from England you know I’d need some ham, for the salad, my Aunt would continue, so you should have remembered that I’d forget and you should have brought it anyway. My uncle would play with his cap, and on the conversation would go. We would just collapse in a heap laughing, and that is why you go to Kerry, so that you can remember to forget things. Simple isn’t it, or have I forgotten part of the story?

Which brings me to what I really really was going to talk about, I’ve remembered now, it’s a bit like a French song, une ronde where it goes around in circles, like Frere au Jacques. What do you do if you think you are going to get some money? You share it out, my dad used to say if he won money he’d buy everybody a house. And he would. I have my own plans too, should such a miracle happen.

So today I said to my girls we share any win, 3 ways. So one daughter would get the hundreds, the other the tens, and I as dad would get the pence.So if its £140.20, it would be 100 to big daughter, 40 to little sister, and 20pence to me the dad, who should have kept his mouth shut and pocketed the lot. Instead I get 20p which is enough for a chew or a lollipop, to keep my mouth shut.

But a dad shares things, that’s what I was taught and that’s what I believe in. It’s called Pie in the Sky, or building Castles in the Air I think my mother used to call it as dad was slumped in his chair in the living room or sneaked off to the front room for a lie down. It’s a family trait, if you haven’t got any money you at least have your dreams. If those Pennies arrive from Heaven then you’ll be ready. Though now at my age it’s all down to which relative dies first, that’s if the local cat’s home doesn’t inherit before me. I always assumed I’d last the longest being the 2nd youngest, though now I just don’t know. So save 2 pennies to put on my eyes when the grim reaper gets me, and a few more to pay the ferryman, my Pennies for Heaven.