Happy Mothers Day, all you mothers out there!
My mother, never a follower, certainly not of anything smacking of commercialism, wasn’t a fan of Mothers Day, but now she lives only in my memory, it’s grand to have a designated day when I’m encouraged in my reminiscences of her, and my gratitude to have been her daughter.
During the thaw, Christmas 1981-82. I love this old print of us, out on a walk on what turned out to be one of the only relatively mild days during Ma’s visit. I’d been missing her, so she booked a ticket, borrowed some cold-weather gear and came, leaving poor Papa alone, at Christmas, never imagining – or giving thought to the possibility – that it would be one of those winters: blizzards, snow, ice storms, electricity cuts … I laugh at her, rugged up like the Michelin Man in her borrowed finery, me revelling in the freedom of wearing only a cardi – until I sat in that bed of snow. And the statue’s profile, which could have been Ma’s, in her glory days. How beautiful she was.