My mother was one of six siblings, she was the only girl and there is no doubt in my mind that she was the black sheep of the family, not because she took my father’s surname nor by the outlandish things that she did, but more by her very strong sense of character and will that made her stand up to her father – who was very strict – but not unlike many of the men of that time.
She passed away in 1998 after a very long battle with a rare form of cancer – but I do truly believe it was on her terms to go when the time came and not the disease – but that was her, a woman truly in control of her life, and her death, and strong in every sense of the word.
I remember vividly having a conversation with her during her illness at the beginning of 1998 - the conversation that no-one wants to have with a loved one who is terminally sick – oh, how we both cried together and hugged each other!! It was the conversation where I told her that it was ok for her to leave.
My mother being the person that she was kept going until her body decided to give up – due to a tumour in her groin that had opened up and had become necrotic, her groin artery burst. My first thought on remembering that memory today was the amount and the bright colour of the blood that had spilled out. The ambulance arriving and then being told in the hospital that I would have to learn how to clamp the artery in case it happened again. While I stayed at the hospital until she was stable, she then sent me home to “clean up” while unbeknownst to me, she organised her departure and I believe it was totally on her terms.
A month or so after her funeral when I was clearing out her room, I remember coming across one of her journals and while at first I felt abit awkward to read her private thoughts, it gave me a huge insight into her when she was a young girl. I wasn’t really that surprised at what I read; her brothers had joked many times about her strong will and assertiveness and to see her words come to life in her large looping handwriting made me understand just who she was, her dreams and what she wanted to do with her life.
Years later I met Evan and my life began.
My uncle once said to me, “You are the spit of your mother” - at the time I didn’t realise the significance of those words… but now I know it’s her strength, will and dogged determination that make me who Iam today.
I caught up with my mother’s extended family finally this year – at the funeral of one my Uncles - and it made me feel so awkward in the realisation that I hadn’t seen these people in years and that it took an “occasion” – albeit a sad one - to be together again.
I still miss my mum and more so at this time of the year - I guess you never really get over losing a parent especially when they are such a strong influence in your young life, but it takes a family occasion like Christmas to bring the memories to the surface again.
Christmas for us this year will be quiet – but that’s ok. We will bring out the Christmas Tree, hang the wreath on the front door and adorn the living room with tinsel. Every year I toy with the idea of Christmas Cards…but usually lack of time dictates and it usually ends up being an e- newsy letter – like the one I received today, figuring that it will mean more than a store bought Christmas Card.
My brother Neil will come up to Massie Lodge and will spend time with Evan and I, the Massie Lodge canines and equines. We will exchange a few presents, eat some good food and drink some good wine – and with all the hype and commercialism that normally surrounds this time of the year, when it comes down to it, to me, this is what the true meaning of Christmas is.
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