GIVEN that my last column was an expression of gratitude to those who supported me during my recent hospital visit, I found it no coincidence that my mind was occupied with making an effort on behalf of a loved one during the rest of the week. 

I was particularly bothered by one friend’s admission that she had received a Mother’s Day card and gift from just one of her three sons, and then I spoke to a few more ladies who’d had a similar experience. Very shabby.

Most mums, hopefully, were lucky enough to be rewarded for their efforts with a little surprise or two on the day, or breakfast in bed, or some small token, and I was a little shocked that my friend, who has undergone many a struggle for her family, hadn’t been spoiled rotten in the manner in which she deserved. 

In these days when cards are available for under £1, it’s hardly much to ask to procure one and give it to the person to whom you owe so much. 

Then I realised, of course, that the guilty party could have been my own brother, or my husband.

It is only in very recent years that the former – he’s approaching 30 – has begun to contribute in any way towards our parents’ Christmas gifts.

Re family birthdays, I have to call him to remind him to send a card – and even then, he frequently doesn’t manage to get around to it.

My other half is just lucky that I am happy to act as his facilitator.

Throughout our years together, I have compiled a list of his relatives’ birthdays, anniversaries and their addresses. When these days come round, I buy the cards and presents, wrap the gifts, and then literally put a pen in his hand and an open card under his nose and stand there until he writes it.

Then I post it all or put it into his hand as he is leaving to deliver it to wherever.   

Whilst I could go bonkers dwelling on the unfairness of this distribution of labour, to stay sane I must accept that perhaps men can be domestically negligent without meaning to be.

That’s not to say that they’re not nice, thoughtful individuals, but they just do not seem to see, or they prefer not to think about, what needs to be done around a home.

Thus they fail to complete tasks like removing dirty dishes to the kitchen and crucially, putting them into the dishwasher as opposed to just plonking them in the general vicinity of the sink. 

I suppose that’s an improvement on leaving them in the living room. Small mercies.