Mothers Day Jealousy
As I wander around my Google Reader, looking at post after post celebrating Mothers Day, celebrating inspiring, special, wonderful Mothers, I feel a band tighten across my forehead. I start to feel… envious. Jealous. There. I admit it. I’m Jealous of your Mum. I’m Jealous you have a parent you can Admire. A Mother you Respect. I read posts about the lives your Mothers have lived, the amazing things they have done, the way they have brought you, their daughters, up to be strong, independent, opinionated women. They relationships you have. The way you talk – a lot. The way you see your mothers as a role model. As someone you hope one day you will be like. And I look at your pictures. I greedily stare at the images of your mothers. Imagining...
Happy Mothers Day, Mum
Today is Mothers Day. Wednesday was my Mums birthday. Between the two, this week is always tricky, weird and uncomfortable. Apparently, I’ve managed to resolve nothing, and have learned nothing, in the last five years. Five years. Sigh. That’s such a long time. So. Here I am. And since my nans death, and subsequent conversation with my sister, Stuff has been swilling around in the sludgy undercurrents of my subconscious. Such is the pattern of such things, I’ve discovered over the last few years – it’s tidal, and some months are easy, some are more tricky. This week is always a tough one – Mums birthday is always very close to Mothers day, and there’s a whole heap of emotional baggage tied up in them both – from...
March 9th
Mums birthday. I spent a couple of hours visiting the in laws, who are dog/house-sitting nearby for a friend. A friend whose house could easily have been owned by my own mother. Familiar surroundings, wrong mother. The whole thing was frankly weird and uncomfortable. Happy birthday mum. Tweet
An odd touch of sadness.
My nan died last Sunday. Now don’t be awash with your sympathy, I haven’t spoken to her in 4 years, and honestly really haven’t missed her. But it did lead to my eldest sister calling me. On the telephone. And us having a real live conversation. Which was… good. Haven’t spoken to her for over three years – was *just* pregnant with the Pink. The last contact of any kind I sent her was telling her of Pink’s birth. 4 weeks late, as I knew it’d go straight back to my Mum, and post-birth I was in no fit state to deal with any resulting consequences in contact from a sad grandmother. So was lovely to chat to Big Sister. Weird cos it was like we only spoke last week – bonds of sisterhood go deep I guess. Slipped the comfy family...
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