So….my Mum passed away in the early hours of yesterday morning peacefully in her sleep….. Had visited the day before and she had been in good spirits ironically.
Feel ok….she had not been well for years…a series of mini strokes leading to dementia…the last one resulting in a fall and fractured hip just before Christmas.
Who was she?
Well….up to a few years ago she was fiercly independent…got out and about allover the place…had a HUGE garden ( created by Dad but which she cared for herself) ….not the sort to babysit the grandchildren or anything like that but ‘cared’ in her own way…. she had been a ‘scholarship girl’ and had been to art college before marriage and children and was no bad painter it has to be said….my Dad ADORED her….it was not always a ‘happy’ marriage BUT they seemed to ride the ups and downs
Memories as a young child are of her being absent for periods…during those times I remember an elderly lady called Mrs Tranter coming to make us kids breakfast and get us off to school….I am one of 4….my older sisters were polite and obedient…I’m afraid I wasn’t…HATED Mrs Tranters runny scrambled eggs prefering getting up to the radio on and the mess of boxed cereal on the breakfast table
I would sometimes run off to a neighbours across the road and have breafast with ‘Auntie Jean and Uncle Colin’ before I was returned home and they went off to work….they were young and ‘cool’ ate boxed cereal and unlike some other neighbours were always nice to my Mum
Actually Mrs Tranter was nice….I was just a pretty sullen and difficult 4/5 year old… .later Dad just took over when needed… then we had breakfasts of burned bacon and he once accidently blew up the cooker …. ‘traditional man’ tho he was…. I LOVED Dads cooking!
So Mum….as a kid at times it felt like treading on eggshells ( probably left behind by Mrs Tranter)….at others she was the most charismatic vivacious woman you could ever meet….I remember watching her put on her lipstick as she sat at the dressing table…a tidy array of lotions, potions and sparkly treasure…I watched transfixed….then she would catch me in the mirror behind her looking…..she would then do that popping thing as she pressed her lips together to set the makeup… smile that perfect smile of white even teeth… and say
‘C’mon then…we’re off to the shops’…pick up her bag, slip on her clicky shoes and out the door
For YEARS I thought lipstick was actually called ‘shops’ and had miraculous powers to transform….hmmmm maybe it DOES ….
So yes…with a flourish she would be out of the door…with me trotting behind her past gossipy neighbours…..I would GLARE at them…proud as punch that my Mum was the most beautiful woman in the whole world
And THATS the early memory I have of my Mum
Vivacious, Beautiful….marching past gossipy women in her clicky heels wearing bright red lipstick…..
RIP Mum…..I know you werent always happy….but one thing you always taught me was.not to waste time with gossipy folk…your motto being ‘Don’t pass judgement till you’re perfect yourself’….and in actual fact Mum…at THOSE times you WERE …