Welcome to year two of our weekly series of ‘link-up’ Posts which reflect on life’s journey, old memories and family stories (see below for more info).
There is a point in the life of everyone who has been blessed with a care free upbringing, when they realise how incredible their parents are. This moment invariably arrives at least 20 years later than your parents would have liked it to, but it’s never too late for gratitude.
With the advent of Mother’s Day, there is surely no better time to celebrate Mum.
Mother, Mummy, Mom. At some point or other in her all too short life mine was addressed as all three. ‘Mother’ – when she wore that abhorrent orange flowery sun hat; ‘Mummy’ – when I was covered in nettle rash and needed her to magic up a battered tube of ointment from the kitchen drawer; ‘Mom’ – when I wanted a lift to my friend’s party on the other side of town (with a very short skirt concealed beneath my coat).
Bloody hell, I miss her.
I’m the blonde tomboy in this very short, but precious clip of cine film…
Sometimes I catch her looking at me in the mirror. Perhaps we look more alike than I ever realised, or maybe she is there, on the other side of the glass, urging me not to wear too much make-up.
My mum was the stern one, the disciplinarian and director of family life. She could stop traffic with a sharp glance, cover me in flour on baking day, mesmerise me with her shorthand, enthrall me with a game of shoe shops make-believe, and scoop me up whole for a hug with a dimpled, freckled smile. She was my mum and I cherished her.
She was standing in the kitchen, ironing in her nightie at 4am when I finally came home one night, aged 18. That’s the irreplaceable, unstoppable love of a mother for her daughter and it left a gaping hole in our lives when we lost it.
This will be the 6th year that I haven’t been able to buy a Mother’s Day card, but the memories just get sharper and more profound. She gave me the gift of a childhood brimming over with love, and the sweet nostalgia of it will be with me forever.
Tell me about your Mum. I am dying to hear your messages of love. Pay her the tribute of words and put her down ‘on paper’ for posterity. Please share your posts on the Linky below, or just leave a comment. It truly makes all the difference.
Oh, and remember you’re never too big for a cuddle.
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A selection of other posts from this series:-
Week 2 – Old School Portrait
Week 4 – Bestest Friends
Week 5 – Teenage Crushes
Week 6 – First Movie Memories
Week 19 – Becoming a Parent
Week 25 – Old Boyfriends
Week 39 – My home town