For the two weeks until the election I will be posting an open letter every day using the prompts from CAPTAINEVERLAND to provide something nice at a time of heightened conflict and division. I think it speaks of election fatigue that I’ve miscalculated this by a week for some reason, when I took out a calendar to work out the starting date.
I don’t know if you’ll ever be there. Just last night I joked about planning an illegitimate child to avoid campaigning in the next election because I don’t think I’ll be married by then. Or ever. Of course you aren’t just my excuse for not campaigning on medical grounds, and even if you aren’t there I love you already…I can only imagine how much more I will love you when I get to see your little face and arms and legs stretching out of whatever Tory slogan bodysuit your aunt Helen got her hands on at a previous party conference. We’re all looking forward to using the pram to carry leaflets in the bottom so we don’t carry heavy bags during a campaign. I hope you’ll have fun being uncle Joe’s chief vote winner. You couldn’t escape the campaign trail altogether with a family like this, even should you join us as my attempt to get some guilt-fee no-campaigning time after fighting the marginal seat par excellence in 2017. Everyone is really political on some level, whether they are a party political machine like these two, or advocates for what they believe in, so there isn’t really much room for apathy. Maybe being spoon-fed Edmund Burke and Benjamin Disraeli will not prevent you from disagreeing with us, or even make you hate the whole thing, but you won’t be indifferent to it.
I hope I can afford to get you into a good Catholic school, especially if you’re a boy the Oratory one, because I’m a big fan of Cardinal Newman and really want you to have a chance to be part of his legacy rather than just mingle with the Catholic nobility at Ampleforth. But we’ll see, all I care about is that you get a stellar education so you can be more smart-ass than your (hopefully) PhD-waving mother. You’ll probably be born in Croydon, because I’m loving it here and I can’t see myself moving away. I’m sure it’ll be even nicer by the time you are born. It should have a Westfield by then. Or, at this rate, they will have started building it…anyway, I hope you’ll love the place and take some pride in it. But most importantly, I hope I’ll be a good mother to you, and I hope you’ll love me back and be proud of me.
Lots of love,