This is a self indulgent blog and a tribute to my mum.
I've struggle to write this one as I have so many thoughts surrounding my mum some positive some not so.
My mum was the complete opposite to me in the way she conveyed her love, she was not demonstrative, there were no hugs or I love yous, no kisses, I still hug and kiss my girls even though they are grown up, and I gush about them publicly at every opportunity, I have no idea if my mum spoke of me even fondly to anyone.
I am however immensely proud of the woman she was, and that her dedication to parenthood, helped me to become the woman I am, and whilst I'm not perfect, and I have not always got things right, I have drawn on my mums spirit, and picked myself up and dusted myself off on more than one occasion.
So what makes my mum remarkable? Her early years were spent as an only child growing up on a farm, there were little to no luxuries, study was done by candle light or gas lamp, and yet she managed to gain a place at university along with a scholarship from the local church. When she arrived, the University had no women's living quarters, so 6 young women were thrust into one room, where they became life long friends.
From there she secured a job as a computer programmer, this was when a computer took up the whole of the basement! She took an assignment in Nigeria, I can't imagine what that was like for a very white British woman in the 1960s.
When she returned to London she enrolled in night school where she met my dad, a perfect match, they married 6 months later, and I followed a year later.
I have very few concrete memories of my childhood, there were no family holidays, the were lots of after school activities, music, theatre dance, brownies and church, I'm not sure mum really enjoyed the play side of my childhood, she was always very industrious, growing fruit and veg, cooking and baking, knitting and sewing.
She was diagnosed with inoperable breast cancer the year I fell pregnant with my eldest daughter, but she never chose to talk about it, not her treatment or how she felt, neither did I ever hear her complain, instead she took part in numerous drug trials including tamoxifen, knowing it may not help her but may benefit others.
After my fathers death in 2008, I accompanied my mum to every hospital appointment, and that's where cancer gave me the greatest gift, I would never have taken 3 hours out of my day to sit and chat with my mum, she wasn't one for going out for lunch or shopping, and whilst I visited her every week, with my children, they were always the focus of those visits, she was a fabulous grandmother, very nurturing and supportive, she never judged them, and would delight in hugging them.
During those times she spoke eloquently of her life, her joys her naughty exploits, including making a tablecloth long enough that when her and her university friends moved into accommodation with a land lady, where gentlemen callers were not permitted to stay, they would smuggle them in under the dining room table! She also crashed the Christmas payroll because she though it would be great fun to programme it to play Christmas carols as it ran. I'm sure the sight of us sitting in an oncology department laughing was a little odd, but laugh we did, and I like to think that maybe it made the awful waiting a little more bearable.
Mum became very poorly this year and declined fairly rapidly, but she never lost her spirit, at Easter I took the time to tell her how incredibly proud of her I was, I may have cried a little, she immediately told me off! Sadly the only time she held my hand throughout her time with cancer was as she passed away.
What I have discovered since her passing is that she was really rather sentimental, I've found my baby shawl, all neatly wrapped in tissue, my first shoes, my red winter coat, love letters, and cards, I'm not sure I knew my mum at all, I'm not sure she wanted or needed me to know her.
RIP My beautiful Mum.
