Mother’s day will, for me, be a poignant day this year. My Mum and my Mother in Law are both very much alive and kicking and I am so grateful to have them around. We aren’t really a family that makes a big fuss of Mother’s day, but I’ll get them each a card and a little something to show that I care. These will either be popped in the post or handed over when we meet near the time. Nothing fancy on the day itself.
Similarly for me, as a mum, the day is usually a couple of cards, jokey from son and pretty from daughter signed by them and the menagerie of pets, of course, then off we go. The rest of the day on a cold rugby pitch in the morning cheering on the Marlborough U15’s and home for chores, enforcement of homework time and build up to a roast dinner – and that’s how I like it. I don’t need to be wined and dined and showered in chocolates or flowers. (Well, flowers are nice occasionally…)
Saying that though, appreciating happiness, whilst we have it, is an understated art. I am at an age now where friends and family are losing their mothers and, whilst life has ticked away nicely for them, the loss of their mother, sudden or otherwise is immense. Sadly, a young colleague of mine passed away days before Christmas leaving a small child. My Mum lost her mother at an early age too and I cannot begin to comprehend the impact that losing a mother must have on a child.
Fitting in calls to my parents around the general hustle and bustle of life is not my best skill. I generally speak to my parents once a week. Sometimes, if technology permits, we even manage to Face Time. This is always hilarious as I get the view of a thumb, the ceiling or the top of Mum’s head. Then there’s the “I’ll hand you over to Dad now” and we have a few minutes more of ceiling, shots of ears, even the carpet and a quick catch up before Call the Midwife takes priority and off they go.
My sister has recently set up a family WhatsApp group which fills the gaps a little and has resulted in some more single sentence chatter and exchanged snow pictures or naughty puppy pictures. Whilst I assume that this is enough, is it?
Although my parents are retired, they are busy people and quite often, one or the other isn’t around when I call. This all seems fine and the accepted norm, but how am I going to feel when, in September, my daughter goes off to university some four hours away from home? I have no doubt that there will be the odd text – usually for money, and the odd call, but how would I feel if this was once a week only? I can’t quite comprehend it. Mind you, with teenagers, there are quite often days when you wonder why you’ve bothered speaking at all.
Life is different now to when I was at university and had to queue to use a telephone in my student halls. Her phone is very much glued to my daughter’s hand, so that shouldn’t be a problem. Will she call, will she miss me? Who knows? What I do know is that the key is to making each of those moments that you do share the best version of a moment that they can be. We don’t need to be hearts and flowers to our mums and as mums all the time. It’s about what makes you feel loved that counts. Happy Mother’s day Mum x