Sunday, March 10, 2013
A cold day for mothers.
Go back to sleep, world!
Yesterday I wrote that we had witnessed the beginnings of Littlehampton waking up for the summer.
Well, Littlehampton and the rest of us should be back into hibernation.
It is cold again. Very cold.
Tomorrow, in the wind, the temperature is predicted to feel like minus 9 or 10 degrees and it seems certain that we will be seeing snow again.
We have 2 days in a row to look forward to in the shop. It will be cold in there - even out of the biting winds.
This afternoon we were with family.
There are many of us, particularly those of our age, of course, who cannot be with their mothers on Mother's Day.
My own mother gave me a cycnicism about Mother's Day.
She was not against Mothering Sunday - the church could have any festivities they chose.
Indeed, I like the idea of young folks who have left home returning back, once a year, to their mother church and to visit their mothers at the same time.
But the evolution of Mothering Sunday into the current Mother's Day does worry me.
I am all for people loving their mothers and putting themselves out for their mothers - most do all that they can every single day for their mothers.
And to make an extra special effort, one day a year, is no bad thing.
I have heard today of lots of lovely things being done for mothers all over the land....breakfast in bed, a home made lemon drizzle cake, special dinners. There has been much love being shared today.
But my mother feared being caught up in the corporate money making opportunities that these occasions create.
She taught me not to revere these dates.
I passed this on to my own boys.
I think I can now say that I feel proud of our anarchic response to big business, but I do have a small part of me that aches to be a part of something which so many others embrace.
I relented and put a couple of pictures of my mother onto facebook this afternoon.
+1952+At+Leigh..jpg)
Well here we are in 1952.
My mother was 28.
It is a photo I don't understand.
I believe it was taken at Leigh in Kent, we were visiting Dick and his family. Dear Dick - an interesting, slightly anarchic man.
Why are we dressed so smartly?
We are in our best clothes.
But this afternoon I was with other family members.
People who would never have been family members if my mother had not died at an early age.
It is a strange concept - knowing that people you now love and treasure, maybe should never have lived.
My half sister made a comment this weekend....."Sorry that your Mum had to die, so that my Mum could become my Mum"
My step mother (her mother) is not so very much older than me, reaching her 70th birthday this weekend.
We took a present.
Then we played and chatted with my half nephews.
One had been given a magic set for his birthday and together he and I worked out how to do a couple of small tricks.
He walked around for some time afterwards with a pencil seemingly floating behind his hand.
His younger brother knew it had something to do with the magic wand......well, of course - it is magic!
Each generation and branch on the family tree is as important as an other. I am sorry, my mother died - long before I had a chance to really know her; but I am happy with the way the tree has grown and blossomed.
Yesterday I wrote that we had witnessed the beginnings of Littlehampton waking up for the summer.
Well, Littlehampton and the rest of us should be back into hibernation.
It is cold again. Very cold.
Tomorrow, in the wind, the temperature is predicted to feel like minus 9 or 10 degrees and it seems certain that we will be seeing snow again.
We have 2 days in a row to look forward to in the shop. It will be cold in there - even out of the biting winds.
This afternoon we were with family.
There are many of us, particularly those of our age, of course, who cannot be with their mothers on Mother's Day.
My own mother gave me a cycnicism about Mother's Day.
She was not against Mothering Sunday - the church could have any festivities they chose.
Indeed, I like the idea of young folks who have left home returning back, once a year, to their mother church and to visit their mothers at the same time.
But the evolution of Mothering Sunday into the current Mother's Day does worry me.
I am all for people loving their mothers and putting themselves out for their mothers - most do all that they can every single day for their mothers.
And to make an extra special effort, one day a year, is no bad thing.
I have heard today of lots of lovely things being done for mothers all over the land....breakfast in bed, a home made lemon drizzle cake, special dinners. There has been much love being shared today.
But my mother feared being caught up in the corporate money making opportunities that these occasions create.
She taught me not to revere these dates.
I passed this on to my own boys.
I think I can now say that I feel proud of our anarchic response to big business, but I do have a small part of me that aches to be a part of something which so many others embrace.
I relented and put a couple of pictures of my mother onto facebook this afternoon.
+1952+At+Leigh..jpg)
Well here we are in 1952.
My mother was 28.
It is a photo I don't understand.
I believe it was taken at Leigh in Kent, we were visiting Dick and his family. Dear Dick - an interesting, slightly anarchic man.
Why are we dressed so smartly?
We are in our best clothes.
But this afternoon I was with other family members.
People who would never have been family members if my mother had not died at an early age.
It is a strange concept - knowing that people you now love and treasure, maybe should never have lived.
My half sister made a comment this weekend....."Sorry that your Mum had to die, so that my Mum could become my Mum"
My step mother (her mother) is not so very much older than me, reaching her 70th birthday this weekend.
We took a present.
Then we played and chatted with my half nephews.
One had been given a magic set for his birthday and together he and I worked out how to do a couple of small tricks.
He walked around for some time afterwards with a pencil seemingly floating behind his hand.
His younger brother knew it had something to do with the magic wand......well, of course - it is magic!
Each generation and branch on the family tree is as important as an other. I am sorry, my mother died - long before I had a chance to really know her; but I am happy with the way the tree has grown and blossomed.
