Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Anniversary, Birthday, Death, Family, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad
Today would be Mum’s 94th birthday.
And even though she died in 2015 – aged 83 – there is a part of me that still thinks she could have lived to this age if her heart operation hadn’t gone the way it did.
Not that the surgery was bad … the problem was that Mum’s heart condition was caused because of an illness she had as a small child and no one had realised its impact until things started to go a different way in the operation than anyone expected or had planned for.
But if that hadn’t happened … I fully expect Mum would be alive.
Actually, not just alive, but living.
Slower – for sure – but still curious, interested and engaged in life because as I’ve said many times, she always told me to be interested in what others are interested in, which was a belief she didn’t just follow, but lived every day.
In a perfect world, she’d now be living with us in NZ … and despite her being fiercely independent, I think she would have done it.
I even think she would have loved it.
Being nearer only son.
Seeing her only grandson.
Chatting to her daughter in law.
Patting the lovely – but slightly stupid – Bonnie.
God I would have loved to have witnessed this. To have witnessed her living in the peace and tranquility of our house in the trees. And while I am sure she would have occasions where she felt far from home – be that Italy or England – I really believe that would be countered by the safety, comfort and warmth she’d experienced being close to people who love her and that she loved.
I always remember how much she loved me coming home to visit her.
How she loved how the house because a cauldron of noise as I – and my friends – filled it with laughter and chatter.
And while we would have ensured she had her own space for her own life, I suspect that she would have spent more time with us than alone. Or she would once we told her we loved her hanging out with us – as I also suspect she’d be so worried she was crowding us out, she would stay out of her way.
Because Mum always was doing more for others than herself.
Looking out for them.
Wanting to do the best for them.
And while that is kind and generous and loving – I wanted her to feel cared for.
I wanted her to feel loved, protected and put first.
And while we had our moments of niggles as I tried to do this for her – while she did all she could to resist it – towards the end we had found a place of harmony and understanding which meant the world to me, because that is how we were for most of our life together and how I would have loved to have seen our life together if we had ever been able to bring her to NZ.
But alas that didn’t happen.
In fact, when Mum died a lot that I am quoting in this fantasy extention of my family life, hadn’t happened either.
We hadn’t left China and moving to NZ wasn’t even on the radar.
Hell, we had to move to America and England before that was to happen – and even then that was motivated as much by COVID as it was by Colenso.
Then there’s the fact we had only just had Otis … and don’t even get me started on Bonnie.
And yet, that image of Mum with us resides in my heart. I’d truly have loved it and so today – in her honour – I’ll be cooking a dinner that I know she would have wanted to cook for us.
Nothing fancy, but a true Italian pasta sauce – simple and yet delicious as hell.
Because the one thing Mum taught me was that love isn’t complicated, it’s just showing you care.
Happy Birthday Mum, I love you so much.
I wish I had more photos of you that I could use in these posts.
The fact I don’t just reinforces how you have gone and how much I miss you.
So a big kiss to you and to Dad.
You’re forever with me.
Rx
