what would mum say?

I have been thinking about my mum a lot lately. This week will mark 4 years since she died.

I can’t honestly say that my relationship with my mum was the most straightforward. There have been some very toxic times in my life that are due to our relationship, some of which I am not sure I have fully forgiven and forgotten. But lately I have found myself leaving the difficult aspects of our relationship to the side, and yearning to talk with mum, to hear her thoughts.

What has come to me lately are wonderful memories of how it felt as a child in our relationship. We were incredibly, intensely close. I used to come home from school and absolutely relish talking to her about my day, I swear each day I talked with mum for hours. I’d hang around in the kitchen while she cooked dinner, chatting away. After dinner we’d continue to chat. Together we’d dissect every little thing that was going on in my world. We’d interpret my friends’ behaviours and all the silly bitchy social life of girls. We’d discuss hairstyles and homework. We’d even discuss our family dynamics and try to understand the strange workings of my father’s mind. We didn’t seem to ever run out of things to talk about, big and small, deep and shallow, we always followed and connected on a certain stream of consciousness. And she never seemed one bit annoyed by me, always interested, always respectful of my way of seeing things, and it just seemed we never tired of each other’s company.

I remember a teacher, one that I was very fond of, telling me that she hoped she could have that kind of relationship with her daughter. I think in that moment, when my teacher who I looked up to, was really in a way was looking up to me, it made me realise that we had a peculiarly good relationship.  I know everyone loves their mum, but I think, perhaps, we had something rare. I am so appreciative of what we had.

I never specifically told mum I was trying to conceive. She never really asked. But I think she knew I wanted children, and I only properly realised how dire my fertility situation was after she died.

But maybe I can piece a few bits together.  Mum had fertility problems herself. Doctors told her she’d never have children (she had three). She fell in to such a nervous mess trying to conceive that she gave up her job in order to reduce stress for the baby-making business. She very nearly died from an ectopic pregnancy.  She had a hard journey to have children and absolutely put her all in to rearing us. She told me multiple times that she was amazed by how much love came out of her for each of her children and that it was like nothing else on earth. Although, as well, (in those more toxic times that I mentioned), I recall her saying that children are a massive disappointment!  I also remember, when, as a kid, I talked about having children one day, she did say “you never know if you’ll be able to have them it is NOT a guarantee”, and she also said  “having children is wonderful but not having them definitely wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world”.

I find myself wishing I could talk with mum now, from my current place and perspective. But I can’t. Yet as I weave a memory patchwork together of those many years of many chats, in a way I feel as though we have.