Tuesday, 2 June 2009


The older I get the more of a person my mum becomes to me and the more I am amazed by all the character traits she holds. She is the strongest, most wonderfully honest, generous person I know. She is generous with everything, almost to a fault, but especially generous with her love. Her love overflows and covers every word, every birthday and well done card, every embrace.

I've been thinking about writing this for a few days, but I've just picked up the phone instead. I always have to ring, or text, or contact my mum the minute I feel I want to tell her something. She always picks up her phone. Always. I am literally terrified of the day that she won't be able to. When I don't have someone to reassure me that I've got the right temperature for lasagne, or to have her listen to my outpourings of negative energy, or to hear her tell me the truth, or to hear her say "chin up, young person." I don't know where a part of me will go when she does.

I'm the independent, free-spirited one in our little trio and yet my mum can hear the tears or happiness in my voice within a beat. She lets me stand as my own complete person, but her hands are always hovering just underneath my elbows. This used to suffocate me and I used to scream about it; now that I need it, I understand just why it's there. I love every single shadow, laugh, bump, bruise, colour, smile and story she has. And she's helping me piece mine together. Mum, you know how much I love you.

Plus, without you I'd have no Otis and no Beatles.

In My Life - The Beatles