Mother, friend, grandmother, gardener, baker, homemaker, ferociously competitive scrabble player – the list goes on.
Through the good times and the bad times and all the times in between, Mum has been my constant. My friend, my nagger, my counsellor, my advisor, my teacher, my co-conspirator. She is wise. She is a beauty. She is a survivor and she always conducts herself with immense grace and kindness.
We are lucky to share the same sensibilities and have a similar sense of humour, which allows us to laugh at most things and make the best of a situation. We also genuinely enjoy one another’s company – and days out invariably include long walks, visits to garden centres and a good cup of coffee. We pore over the news and talk about the latest exploits of one or more crazy family members.
She reads voraciously and is never without a book. We have our own mini book club, bouncing titles backwards and forwards between us, albeit I can never get through as many as she does.
We are also both Netflix fans and I remember a very funny time, when she visited and I asked her whether she had watched The Crown. Over a wet weekend in London, we binged the whole of Season One. “Keep going, keep going” she kept saying to me at the end of each episode, as she feared she might not see the whole thing through.
Gardening is a shared passion and when I bought my first property in London and confidently declared I had set £100.00 aside for the garden, she raised her eyebrow, dragged me up to Columbia Road and the rest is history! I can’t put a number on the times we have had the very best time getting absolutely filthy in either her garden or mine and then come in and collapsed, perfectly satisfied with our day.
One of my favourite moments with Mum was a floristry course that we both went on a couple of years ago. It was just us at the fabulous Covent Garden Academy, learning how to make Christmas wreaths and arrangements. London was at its sparkly best and we had the best time sharing something that we both loved. Just the best.
Day trips and holidays, great meals and long walks, lazy days with a good book and the silence that only a comfortable and special relationship can sustain.
It’s hard to put into words what all of this means, but I know it means something bigger than I can explain. And I know I am grateful for it.
There are so many moments with my Mum, some epic, some small, but it is the core of these moments that matters the most.
And the core is, quite simply, love. That’s all you need, isn’t it?
Happy Mothers Day, Mum. xx