I believe it’s Mother’s Day in the United States today, so I thought there’s the perfect excuse to mention yet again my mum. However, rather than a maudlin post, telling you all how much I miss her and leaving everyone depressed, I thought I’d share one I wrote for and about my mum a few years ago, on the occasion of her birthday. It reminded me of the many happy memories I have to tap into and warm my heart.
Most of us have mothers we are proud of, who were there every step of the way when we were children, showering us with love and allowing us develop our wings. They guided us as we got older and did their best to keep us out of trouble. As the years passed they stayed in our corner, hands off, but never far away, ever ready with words of encouragement, guidance or understanding.
Thankfully, most of us have wonderful mothers, but only four others in the world have a mum like mine.
Today as we toasted her good health and in our rather crazy family way, tried to let her know how much she meant to us, I saw tears in her eyes, the rarest of occurrences. By our presence and presents we attempted to show her what she means to us. But that is impossible. For how can you ever articulate the feelings you have for the person you admire most in the world. They say never meet your hero, I disagree, I love meeting her.
My mum is strong, caring, loving and gentle, but she is also the craziest, funniest and most entertaining woman I know. When I think of her so many memories flood my mind but, for a long time to come, I hope one of my happiest memories will be of the fun we had today as a family, how wonderful my mum looked and how proud I felt to call this lionhearted lady, Mum.
It would be impossible to paint a vivid picture of my mother here, so instead I’ll give you just a little insight into her humour. This is a true story and something she has done on more than one occasion.
She hates cold callers, anyone selling anything. One day I arrived home and she was in stitches laughing… she loves her own jokes! She told me, how a few minutes earlier a young man had come in the gate and she knew he was selling something. Now my mum (an octogenarian) doesn’t look her age, but neither does she look like a young one. When the poor unsuspecting young fella rang the bell, she answered the door.
As he began his well worn, practiced opening lines, she interrupted him. He stopped his banter and she said,
“I’m terribly sorry, my mother isn’t at home, could you call back later?”
She couldn’t contain herself as she tried to explain to me the look on the poor fella’s face as he walked out the gate while she merrily waved him off.
That is my mum.
Happy Mother’s Day Mum wherever you are.