Dear Mum

Dear Mum,

I have so many memories of my childhood, with you in centre stage. Always there, constant, steady, providing the firm foundations of the family. As the mother of five, you sacrificed your time, energy and money for us, selflessly, with none of the modern day obsession mothers have for ‘me time’. I never once heard (or even accidentally overheard) you complain. Never.

And I have so many wonderful memories of growing up –

I remember all your administrations due to my sickly disposition as a small child. And while I hated the endless rounds of doctors, I loved that it meant time with you. Chatting in the car, always a treat for me somewhere along the way “for being good at the doctors”. You made being unwell as good as it could be and even managed to make it feel special.

I remember your outrage when the dog pulled the roast chicken off the bench and was happily munching away when we all trooped into the kitchen for lunch. I can’t remember what we had instead but I’m sure you managed to rustle up something yummy 🙂

I remember the first time I heard you swear – come to think of it, it might also be the last! It was when you had started cake decorating and it was your first ‘proper’ order. You came in to find the cat had eaten the flowers off the top. We all stood around staring at the cake in stunned silence. And then quietly, but with such feeling, you simply said, “Bloody cat.” I still laugh at that memory today; we were all so horrified! Now, I think, man, I would have said a lot worse than that!

I remember waking up on a school day in a foul mood – I have no idea why – and coming out to the kitchen, I very rudely demanded my uniform. You cheerily replied and I stomped off to get dressed. It was then I remembered – it was your birthday. You didn’t admonish me, although you were well within your rights to, you just gave me a hug when I came out and graciously accepted my sheepish birthday wishes.

I have the most vivid memory of one sports day in primary school – you were at every single one but due to my asthma and other health problems, there was never really much to see in regards to my races. You always cheered me on though, saying I had done my best etc etc. And then, one day, I won my race. I remember so clearly you at the finish line, jumping up and down in surprise and excitement. You couldn’t wait to tell everyone when we got home. And I was so proud that I had made you so proud.

And then the teenage years. I remember you let me stay home from school the day after a particularly nasty break up with a boy. You let me sit on the couch all day in my pyjamas, watching soap operas and eating chocolate, comforted by you bustling around doing the usual household chores and bringing me cups of tea.

I remember my school formal, and you, knowing I detested the taffeta creations expected during the 80’s, took me shopping at all the funkiest stores of the day, for something ‘different’. And then, when we had found the perfect dress (complete with matching jacket and ginormous shoulder pads LOL) you spotted another top that you knew I would love and just handed it to the sales girl. Still to this day, I don’t know how you managed financially to do that but knowing that money was tight made it even more special.

So many more memories; my wedding day, babies being born, meals when I was sick, shopping, cuppas, a shoulder for the tears. And now, as a mother myself, your encouragement and advice are invaluable. Your guidance, not only as a mother, but as a wife, woman and friend is something I know I could never do without.

And if you are proud of me, as you so often say you are, I am only who I am because of you. So thank you, mum, for the memories that continue to stack up. I will always treasure them but even more, treasure you.

Love me xoxox

5 thoughts on “Dear Mum

  1. A lovely tribute.

    My mother was complicated and brilliant and wonderful and difficult. I feel lucky that she was my mother for the short time she was here, and all these years later I miss her every single day.


    • Thanks Mapelba.
      So sad for you that your mother is no longer here. Sounds like, even with her faults (which we all have), she had a profound and lasting influence on your life. And that truly is a blessing.


  2. Pingback: Mother’s Day | Personally Speaking

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