Mum's The Word

To my amazing Mother,

You are without a doubt, the rainbow behind every rain cloud that ever thought to darken the sky.

You are an inexhaustible source of happiness, and as you grow older, you grow more beautiful.

You’ve often said that love is the most overused word in existence. And when I look into your eyes, I know that true love is what you have sacrificed for the six of us. You have lived, worked and prospered through times we could not fathom, let alone replicate, and you built our home on a foundation of selfless love and grace.

You are the life blood of our family, and the human super glue which holds us all together and if you aren’t happy, none of us are. Your tears become ours, and your sadness becomes mine.

In ways of which you are not even aware, you have held my dreams together with your endless support and encouragement. But when you say “Well done!” or “I’m very proud of you”, that praise is a reflection of all your love and effort; as before I can claim any ghastly delusions of kindness, independence or intellect, you have been there by my side, as a never ending source of inspiration and strength.

There are two educations in life. The one you have taught, and the one I had to learn for myself…which has almost nothing to do with knowledge, and everything to do with a universal understanding of who is real and what is essential. Over the years you’ve taught me family isn't always biological, but instinctual, and that means always looking after the people who need our love and help the most.

Although you are the definitive winner of ‘Most Questions Asked Before 9am’, and clearly working for some kind of intelligence agency, you were able to warn me about people long before I even thought to be cautious. I've recently realised I’ve never had a true friend, not ever, not a real one, that you haven’t given your verbal approval of, because you judge people on their actions, not words or grand appearances.

As a hideous teenager it makes me sad to think how I threw you into the trenches of my distress, sadness and worry, and I’m eternally sorry for causing 25 years’ worth of trouble outside an inaugural 11 hour labour. You have loved me most when I've been at my worst,and you are the quiet calm voice that reminds me that everything will be ok.

But thankfully, when we laugh, we laugh a lot, and like any great mother you make fun of me daily. As the original funny girl, you taught me the importance of approaching life with a sense of humour, and how not to take myself or the opinions of others too seriously.

For example, when you told me (and numerous other people) I could talk shit for a living, you didn’t initially intend it to be career advice, but here I am, some years later carving out a career as a writer. Yet, even in jest you held a high standard for me, as a woman and your daughter, for which I was always exactable. You said I could be whoever I wanted if I was willing to work hard enough, and I would not be who I am today without you.

Nevertheless, I’m guilty of neglecting you. You're so hidden in plain sight I assume your presence is commonplace, and I forget how significant it is to my health and undisputed happiness.

But you are more than just a mother, a chef, a chauffeur, a bank manager, a disciplinarian and a sibling mediator.  You are a self-made woman whose independence was established long before you had a man to share the bills with. And although you never had the time to read books or benefit from the opportunity to travel extensively in your youth, you are one of the most intelligent and insightful people I know. 

Apart from caring for your children, you have shown love and given people dignity in the last years of their life,through your relentless philosophy of always putting other people first...and as the first woman on, and the last woman off the dance floor, your spirit is something I can only aspire to.

Of style and femininity you taught me its boobs OR legs, NEVER both and that the former would be a genetic legacy I would appreciate one day. And, as I stood in my sisters beloved holy communion dress aged eight, with it barely fitting over my knees, you delivered your usual cut throat truth, in your usual characteristic way. You said I was never going to be as skinny and petite as my sisters or some other girls, and I shouldn’t try to be. You said I should love my own body because it’s the only one I’m ever going to have - and in that simple assertion you made me resilient and confident enough to love my own skin.

They say "All women become like their mothers, but no man does and that’s his tragedy." I hope I’m lucky enough that I do, because to me that would be the highest form of accomplishment. And in an age of my own, when I have my own family to love, I hope my heart will be as big and generous as yours and serve as a credit to your legacy.

And although I can only explain my love for you in adequate words, you have always helped me find my voice during times when I had lost all hope.

You are the essential substance behind every thought and feeling I’ve ever had, and in the creation of all my own stories, you are the muse, the mastermind and the master of ceremonies.

I love you not only for who you are, but for what I am when I’m with you…the truest and very best version of myself.

“When trials are heavy and suddenly fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends desert us; when trouble thickens around us, a mother is the truest friend we have.”

From your proud and loving daughter, with love. Always.