My Star Brother.

"Janey, stop crying it's fine" you said as you carried me in your skinny 12 year old arms. Luckily I was small and not too heavy.

 I had banged my head and blood was seeping out of my forehead onto your grey school jumper. I had managed to crack my head on the school playground slabs. 

Instead of running to the school nurse as all six year old's are supposed to do, I belted it over the 'big' playground to find you, my big brother Jim. You would help.

You immediately hoisted me up, you knew how to carry me, you were the eldest and I was the youngest. You had hauled me on your hip for years.

 I could see the shock in your face as the blood dribbled over my eyebrows and into my eyes. You took your sleeve (who carries hankies?) and wiped my face with such tenderness. 

In seconds my legs were crab like round your waist and my arms locked around your neck. I could feel your heart banging in your chest as you sped up the hilly street towards my house and sat beside me as my mammy washed and looked at the cut on my head.

I still have the scar.

You had scars as well.

The ones on your torso when you got so overweight at twenty and one night slashed your own stomach. Nobody spoke about it. You had scars on your arms when you took to the needle to escape your own life when heroin magically melted away the crap in your existence. 

Then you got thin again and the scars of the years of being an addict took its toll like a map of fear on your skin. You became a problem, you were complicated, angry, confused and sometimes a right pain to be with, but I still loved you.

You got new scars, when the tests for HIV revealed you had more shit running in your veins than you thought was possible and then you got more scars when you developed cancer and a Hickman line protruded out of your collar bone. 

That bone I knew so well, the bone I would rest my head on as a kid when you picked me up.

Your life was full of scars and pain, yet you carried on. 

I remember coming to see you and discovering that all the posters and flyers from my Fringe shows were on your walls beside Oasis and Bryan Ferry. 

You told me I was 'Your Star Child' and sometimes you rubbed the thin line on my forehead and called me 'Your Scar Child'. We laughed and hugged.

I never got to say goodbye to you, you died a few years ago on New Year's Eve down in Colchester near your daughter.

You went suddenly and one of your extended family just put your death up as a Facebook Status and that's how I found out you had left us. 

But in my heart you always were the one that carried me Jim and now I carry you, inside my soul.

My Star Brother.

Janey Godley’s Podcast Episode 192

 

(Please be aware that this Podcast Contains strong language)

 

In episode 192 of Janey Godley's Podcast, the comedy duo that is Janey Godley and her daughter Ashley Storrie discuss this week's news stories. Ashley apparently fancies George Osborne, she talks about the 'naked faced selfies' on Facebook and talks about her comedy hero Roisin Conaty.


Janey gives us her budget tips, debates make up and chats about her dad. It's the first week of the Glasgow Comedy Festival, so we talk all things comedy.


Mother and Daughter comedy team get to natter and the world gets to hear it on Janey Godley’s podcasts, expect some bawdy language and home truths, as Janey Godley and Ashley Storrie lead you down the roads less taken in their fantastic weekly podcast. Listen as mother and daughter banter, bait and burst with laughter.


Janey Godley Podcast at: Episode 192


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We hope you enjoy our Podcasts it would be great if you would pass it on, thanks Janey Godley & Ashley Storrie.

When it's hard to do comedy

"That's my big brother just died" I said as I looked at the Facebook update his daughter posted. Would have been nice to have been told in a more intimate or sensitive way about the passing of my beloved bro, but hey-ho this is my family we are talking about. It was New Year’s Eve 2011 and I was about to go and do a gig to a sold out celebration comedy crowd. I couldn't pull out at the last minute on New Year's Eve....and do what? Stare at the Facebook update?

So, I pulled on a smile and dragged some lipstick across my sad mouth and headed into the club. It all went amazing, but my chest and lungs hurt with suppressing the shock and sadness. I kept staring at the laughing crowd thinking 'my brother is dead and I can't even get time to digest this' but they needed to laugh and he would have loved that I didn't cancel a show for him.

Comedy is one of those jobs, where you can't wear your pain on your face or express it in your work place. Jokes have to be done and a sparky demeanour has to be adopted.

I have done a comedy show right after a close family funeral, a child abuse trial and the night my daughter landed in hospital.

I know there are many jobs where personal circumstances have to be dampened and priority is given to the workplace, but not many where you have to tell jokes and hear people laugh as your soul feels like lead inside.

You can't tell the other comics about a recent death, unless it's another comic onstage, then tell that story in minute detail. If it's an actual family bereavement, you hush as you don't want to be the joke killer...you have to grin and bear it. Not everyone wants to witness a sad clown backstage...it's seen as unprofessional. Despite my comedian friends being the most bitter, twisted cynical bunch of folks you can find, they are also the most supportive and the way they convey their touching attitude is funny as well -

"Is your brother still dead Janey? That's a shame, is your mammy the one that was flung in the Clyde? Yeah...that's a funny story...anyway go out there and do your shizzle, see you on the other side" We bond over the gravity of life.

I am proud of my fellow comics, who have been through marriage breakdowns, cancer diagnosis, car crashes and yet immediately stood on stage and delivered the goods.

We are a hardy bunch of people and as I head to the Edinburgh Fringe with my daughter I want everyone to know that we comics put our heart and soul into our shows. We want everyone to have a good time, so come out and bring your laughing gear with you - hopefully nobody in my family dies the first week of our run.

So thanks for reading, if you want follow me on twitter @JaneyGodley for updates and daily shenanigans