Mother’s Day is always bittersweet for me. I am very lucky my girls want to spoil me and give me presents wrapped by themselves (normally their prized pens or pencils, loaned to me for the day) but I also miss my mum. My lovely mum. Even writing this is making me cry. God, I miss her. Every day. I no longer accidentally pick up the phone to call her when something good or bad happens. That happened so often in the beginning and it tore my heart out every time I remembered she wasn’t here to call anymore. But grief can still get me, hitting me when I least expect it, reminding me of all I’ve lost and all my girls have lost.
This is what is getting me this year. My beautiful girls are getting bigger every day. Lily, so caring and generous, with her funny manic moments. Megan, my diva, stubborn, hysterical, her timing is sublime. God, my mum would have adored them. She’d have taken delight in everything they said, every silly dance move and song lyric. My mum spent her whole life bigging her girls up, telling us we could do anything, be anyone, do so much more than she did, yet at the end of the day we all aspired to be like her. I still do.
My girls will never meet my amazing mum, and she will never get to know them, and God, that is crap. I can try to explain to them how strong she was after my dad and my brother died when we we just kids, I can tell them stories about the clothes she made for us, dad’s power tools she learnt to use around the house, the fun we had getting her a little tipsy, try to tell them the incredible bond I had with her, but it’s never going to feel like it’s enough. They’re never going to get to cuddle her, be told how beautiful and funny they are, be made to feel uplifted by her praise.
So I will try to show them the love she showed me, tell them daily how much I love them, remind them there are no limits to what they can achieve, to who they can become. I’m so proud of my girls and I know mum would be too. They will be getting twice as many kisses tomorrow, from me and extra for my mum.