Happy Mother’s Day – Gone But Never Forgotten

It’s nice to see everyone treating their mums today and seeing the gifts and joy that the day brings.  I know most folks don’t just do it for the sake of today but sometimes certain “Hallmark events” can be overwhelming.  It’ s a double-edged sword for me at the moment – I get to buy gifts for my partner from the kids so it still feels like I’m participating in the day but this is the first (of many to come) where my Mum is no longer here.

I think about and miss her every single day.

Getting gifts for her was a nightmare (not just for Mother’s Day) so this is probably the easiest thing I’ve done for it (ironic, huh?).  She wasn’t very techy (typical older generation).  One year, I think it was for Christmas, we bought her a mobile phone so it was easier to keep in touch.  Her reaction (she was a little tipsy at the time) was, “What the fuck am I going to do with a mobile phone?!”  I had that over and over throughout the phone conversation.  It pissed me off at first as I was always taught good manners and, even if you don’t like a gift you don’t behave in such a manner.  The woman that imparted that knowledge was now doing the complete opposite of her instructions.  But, after a while, I couldn’t top laughing.  It was the fact she couldn’t drop it; saying the same thing repeatedly like a broken record.  But that was Mum.

Now, it’s hard to conjure memories of times with her.  I remember bits and pieces but I couldn’t say what order they are or if some were at the same time as others.  As the years go by, I know it will become harder.  As a result, from time to time, I may write a little about certain memories to have them etched digitally before I forget.

My Mum may have been the worst person to buy gifts for, but the toils she went through to raise my sister, brother and I was the greatest gift she could have given.  If she had given up, all of what we have now would never have existed and not even given a moments consideration.  A lot of the old-school values died with her that day.  I hope to impart at least a fraction of them onto my girls so that they can be the roses that grew from concrete.  In this day and age a lot of the old-school values no longer exist and it kills me to think that in a few decades thus far, the world has changed before my eyes and I don’t like what I’m seeing.

Anyway, this isn’t about me.  It’s about my Mum.

I think about you daily, randomly crying in fear of what’s gone and what’s to come.  I don’t fear my own Day but I do fear how it comes about.  I miss you so much and wish you could have seen my girls grow up to see how they turn out and know if I have done you proud.  I’m not the best Dad in the world but I know I am better than HIM (mind you, that doesn’t take much).  I tell the girls stories of how I was as a child and how I wish I could have done things differently to try and enforce good behaviour from them.  The regret of how I was to you during my teen years still chews me up and I know I have apologised, even by your side as you lay in the hospital but it just feels like it was too little too late and should never have happened in the first place.

You not being here raises so many questions and doubts but I guess it’s just like everything – try our best and keep on going as that’s all that we can do.

If there is anything after this, I hope you’re happy and I hope you’re enjoying today along with every other day that follows.

Your lost and wandering son,

Craig