Like a needle on a vinyl record, caught in an unseen scratch, repeat, repeat, repeat until you lift the arm and move it to the next grove. That’s how I feel when I replay the imagines of mum lying unconscious in hospital. I comb her hair and massage her feet. It was the only way I felt useful. We all felt the same way, dad, my sister and my two brothers. You see mum loved to be pampered and it was all we could do for her.
I wondered if she could hear me, tell her how I loved her and I needed her. It was time for her to let go and I didn’t want her to, I wasn’t ready, none of us were. But she still left us.
The 2nd of December 2003 was the last time I kissed my mother, the last time I could smell her, the last time I would see and speak to her in person.
However she lives within me. I hear her in my conversations, when I seek logic, when I need to be strong and when I need to be compassionate. Because that’s what mum was. She was my heart and soul and like most of us, taken for granted until it is ripped away from you.
Mum was my teacher in so many ways it would take weeks to write on each subject. Mum taught me to deal with life, be proud of who I am, not to be judgemental , to care for others, be patient when others needed it and how to blend with people from different walks of life.
She was tough on us at times, but always with unconditional love. She taught me a myriad of skills, to knit, sew, crochet, cook, repair most things, create new things, but more than anything not dwell on the negatives and work on the positives. This was my mum and my dad was the same.
On Mother’s Day I embrace the gratuitous gift of children and grandchildren even though we are not as one family in the one state. It is never ideal but my mother would say “you have to make the most of what you have”.
On every Mother’s Day I say “Happy Mother’s Day Mum, I miss you”. This is my story to share with you.