If my mother had lived she’d have been well into her 80s now, but she didn’t live very long. She died younger than I am now, she died when I was just beginning to get used to being a teenager.
I’ll always miss her.
I was too young to realise that I could have been soaking up every moments, memory and magical time with her. I was busy trying to figure myself out ... still doing that now as it happens!
Being so focused on myself and surviving in a big family of huge personalities I stole precious moments of quietness with my mother. I would creep out of the house after her early in the mornings as she went to work as a cleaner in some local offices. I should have been sleeping before the busy school day but I always seemed to wake up as I heard her getting ready to leave the house. I thought at first that she didn’t know I was following her but I have come to realise that she knew much more than I credited her with.
Children always seem to think they are wiser than their parents and I guess it’s now that I’m realising that wisdom is not best forced onto people. Lessons can be played out in one decade and learnt in another, that’s the way of parental wisdom. My mother was a sage and I know this now.
Today I am grateful for the many moments that I had with her. Those quiet times in the deserted offices as the sun came up were most special. I’d follow her around as she diligently went about her work and sometimes I’d help with emptying the bins or playing with the hoover, but mostly I’d just watch her and enjoy my private time with her.
I remember those moments as times when dreams were formed. As I swung in the swivel chairs in those huge offices I would imagine myself sitting at a desk and working: I achieved that dream.
Walking home with Mummy after she’d finished working I’d be chatting about the maps on the walls of the offices, the places I planned to visit, the big diaries on the desks that were filled with important dates and names and the busyness that would enter that quiet space once we had left.
Our moments of special bonding remain with me after all these years.
Mummy keeps teaching me valuable lessons from the past. I’ll always love her and I’m still learning from her.
Me and Mummy ... a long time ago.
© MHMorgan 2012