Today is Mother’s day in the UK. It’s also my Mother’s birthday.
I find myself sitting here, surrounded by her legacy – the one I’ve absorbed so totally, that it is very much a part of me. The books, the threads, the fabric, the echoes of the past lurking in vintage magazines and fragile embroidery transfers. She taught me so much, and gave me so many things that shaped who I am and what I do.
She was multi-talented, multi-faceted, and so very much *not* the mother that so many others seem to have had. She supported me in my ambitions, encouraged my dreams and fed my imagination. If she criticised, she did it constructively, and she led by example – and while I guess I might have been a little spoiled, it was always about helping me develop and grow. Looking back, I had the best parents I could have asked for, and I miss them both.
I would wish that she’d had a chance to read my first professional novel (although she did read some of my fanfic and gave me positive feedback on that …) But I guess she helped to shape that too – taking me to my first convention, and being very much a part of that world.
This is one of my favourite photos of her (and dad) – dressed, appropriately, in the clothes of the cut, stepping in as models for a photoshoot at the local camera club. Yes, she made the bonnet and some of the rest of the costumes. And that’s her – the loving, slightly amused, slightly exasperated, definitely indulgent look with which she regarded – not just us – but much of the rest of the world.
I am missing her today – and every day – even though she’s right here, with me, in every thought and every breath.
Happy Mother’s day, Mum.
Happy Birthday.