Mother Mine

My mother was a small, sweet, gentle woman who loved her family and her garden and her tiny home with equal measure. She had three children...five if you count the two miscarriages she endured as a young and lonely wife...and played no favourites with us, though my brother and sister would possibly disagree. I was the youngest and was born post World War 2, thus acquiring a sister older by 16 years and a brother my senior by 12 years. I loved both my parents dearly, but as a somewhat sickly child, grew accustomed to the capable and loving nursing provided unstintingly by my mum. She cared for me through scarlet fever and whooping cough and steered me through a myriad of childhood illnesses perhaps more common in the late nineteen forties and fifties that were my early world. She was my rock, my heart, my pillar of strength and my love for her was fierce and jealous.

Today I miss her still, the lovely hands that held mine and tried to guide me on a gentler path; the soft blonde hair that wreathed her smiling face; the sureness with which she took us all though life as our companion, carer and champion, until cruel cancer entered her body and took her away, piece by piece, until only her soul remained.........her name was Jeanne and to this day I love her and think of her and need her advice and laughter and freedom of spirit. I will take her with me through this life and into the next. She was the fire that ignited life in me and still burns brightlythrough my days. She was always there and remains forever my beloved Mother.