Mother's Day in In other news

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day in the uk. I’m working so I’m seeing Mum today. To be fair I see her most days I’m off work, I’m so lucky that we’re close, we’ve never really argued. The odd tiff that was sorted quite easily with tea and cake - I know I know how very British!

Mum and I have been even closer since she was ill I think. Although you appreciate your family, you kind of take it for granted that they’ll always be there, that your brothers and sisters will grow alongside you and that you’ll have your parents till they’re old and grey. Work has taught me that’s not the case, but you don’t think it’ll happen to you, until one day it does, and it’s your world that’s crashing down.

Six years ago this month Mum was diagnosed with leukaemia. She was living abroad, and we weren’t there. My dad told us by Skype and watching his heart break through that screen was horrendous. I remember sitting in between my brother and sister, feeling so out of my depth, knowing I couldn’t fix this for them or even make it better, and that as the oldest, that was my job, I should have been able to do that for them.

It was such a bittersweet time, my friend had her baby at that time and I loved that little one as soon as she was thrust into my arms at just a few hours old. It also made me contemplate my own future, and it made me so sad that my mum might not get to see me as a parent, with my children, hopefully doing a good job with them because everything I know is everything she taught me, and we’ve turned out ok I think!

All she ever wanted was to be a Mum, and she’s done a pretty good job of it. I thank our lucky stars every day that she’s well, and that the type of leukaemia she had was the most treatable, with the smallest rate of relapse. Once you’ve got through chemo at least, which, ironically was the thing that could have killed her. I’m glad she never gave up, even on the days she felt like she could. I’m glad she never thought she would die and that it was just something she had to get through because she had things that needed doing when she came out the other side of it.

I’d like to think I get that from my Mum. I’m a coper, a doer, I just get on. Resilience and strength, those are things my Mum gave me. And a wicked flair for DIY, I definitely get that from her! She’s my sidekick, the mad woman who never tells me I can’t do something, who encourages and finds a way to help me achieve what I want, whether it’s driving across America, or nudging me into nursing when I felt like I was lost, or putting up a picture rail from scratch. She’s the one who always helps me find a way.

I’m sure her heart must be breaking when she thinks about everything we’re going to have to go through in the next few months/couple of years. I know she knows how much I want to be a Mum myself. I know she would wish for it to be easy for me, for it to just happen without having to endure all we’ll have to go through. But I also know she’ll be there holding my hand when I need her, wiping my tears when I need her to, injecting me if I need her to (ain’t no way joeys coming near me with a needle!). I know she’ll do anything she can to make it easier for me, because she’s always put us first. She would go to the ends of the earth for us.

And by god does that woman have a ridiculous, dark, sense of humour. We’re the pair who laugh everywhere we go, who people look at in shops and I always wonder what they’re looking at. I know I’d rather be us, laughing and finding joy, than be one of those people who always has a face on and never cracks a smile.

This woman really is a superhero. She’s my superhero. I hope to be just like her when I grow up.

Xx