Mothering Sunday

Yesterday was a hard day for some of us. Many of us will have lost a mother. Some mothers have been good to us and some mothers have been bad to us.

This was my second Mother’s Day without my mum. I always do my hardest to forget but it never works. Towards the end of the day I think of her and shed a tear. It is really hard to deal with. When she was alive we had the worst relationship down to us both but mainly me. I hold my hands up to being the worst daughter you could think of. Before I was born I gave my mum grief so no wonder we didn’t get on. I spent most of my life hating her and not loving her because she didn’t love me. Neither of us forgave each other until it was too late. She had a stroke the day before her 69th birthday and she never recovered. She spent her last years on God’s green earth paralysed. Not able to speak properly, walk or eat her favourite foods.

When I was 44 years old my mum put her hand on face so lovingly, so tenderly and gently. The most important part of that transaction was, in that one moment she told me she forgave me, was sorry  and she knew I was right. When I got home, back to Reading all I could think of was 44 years too late. As time passed I forgave her and told her I was sorry too.

Now she has gone and as a Christian I pray she is with God so that one day I will see her again and tell her I love her.

The relation between my son and I is so different I love him so much and I know he loves me even though he does not tell me as often as he use to. My son has three mothers me, Therese who is mum number two and Danielle who is mum number three. He has a huge family that love him and a Church family and a family of friends too. My son was lucky enough to know his grandmother and he loved her so much and she adored him.

It is now too late for me to say Happy Mother’s Day to my mum but at least I can tell my son I love him every day.

 

 

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