I have been planning to write a mother’s day post since I visited my Mum in the UK a couple of weeks ago. But today I was inspired to get on with it (just in case I miss the deadline – as I often do with cards etc. sorry mum) by all the ‘Thank you Mum’ notes over at English Mum’s blog.
Like so many other women out there, I have only just started to get an inkling of what my Mum went through with us kids now that I have one of my own. What I find incredible is that she had had all three of us by the time she was 30. That’s a full 10 years younger than I was when I had Bibsey. Sadly, her mother died when she was pregnant with my sister (her first). I just can’t imagine how that must have been for her – not only facing motherhood for the first time without her mum to guide her but the cruelty of the timing. I remember mum often saying how much her mother would have loved to have met us.
I was lucky. My mum had my dad (a salute to him too) drive pretty much non-stop (24hrs) from London to Southern Spain (speeding away from a menacing Icelandic volcano at the time) to be with me after Bibsey was born. I cried when she arrived. I cried when she left. And pretty much most of the time in between. She was brilliant and is a fabulous, loving granny.
We were very lucky as young kids to have our Grandpa living with us and we all have very fond memories. He died of lung cancer and was very sick and confused towards the end. My mum took care of him for a long time before he went into a hospice. How did she do that and cope with three young kids? How hard that must have been.
At that age I was gallivanting around the world being as irresponsible as my personality would allow with really no thought for anything apart from having a good time. Could I have done what she did? I am not so sure.
The other day when mum collected Bibs and me from the airport, we drove past a park and I remembered that Grandpa took us there once to fly a kite. Mum said “oh yes, I used to go jogging there”. Jogging? I didn’t remember her going jogging. Apparently this was one of the things that she got up to when we were at school. In fact there must have been so many things about her days that we didn’t know about or wonder about because she was just Mum, just there, everyday. I think that is a great deal of what being a mum must be about – just being there through thick and thin as your children grow, leave home and then turn-up again with washing, babies and boxes to clutter up the loft.
Thanks Mum. We are all so lucky to have you.
For mother’s day I would also like to raise a glass of fizzly bubbly to some other fantastic women:
My sister: mother of two gorgeous girls
My sister-in-law: mother of three excellent little boys
My girlfriends: some are mothers, some not, and some are mothers-to-be. All are nurturing, loving souls who have helped to bring me up and they make the world a brighter place.
My granny (dad’s side): mother of three, grandmother of eight, great-grandmother of four (in her life-time – two more since). She was a cantankerous old fart of boundless energy, who was talented and funny and deserves her own bloody blog (posthumous). We miss her.
And finally my old friend: mother of two who tragically lost her beautiful little girl to a terrible disease last year before she had even reached her 2nd birthday. My heart goes out to her on Mother’s Day.