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Sunday, Mother’s Sunday

Potted Violet, Decorated Scented Candle and
Cupcake Drawing.  Lovely girls!

At almost 9am on a Sunday morning I was still in bed! That’s utterly unheard of, but wickedly delicious all at once. There were footsteps and whisperings going on downstairs between Mr K and the gang. I knew they’d be up early and giddy, but that was just fine. They are, after all, the reason today is special.


On my own for a few moments, I had time for a quiet moment of reflection on the sad news that a young mother in the village had lost her battle against cancer. I didn’t know her, but her courageous battle, her strength and her fight have moved everyone in our community. Her two daughters are only four and five, and the girls thought the funeral was one lovely big family party. The tragic passing of their mother was lost for a moment in the innocence of their youth.


The loss of your mother is destroying at any age. She’s your ultimate protector, your champion, your ‘go to regardless’ person. My mum passed when I was 32, and even at that adult age I felt lost, cheated and angry. I still feel that, every time I think I must tell her something, forget she’s gone and lift the phone to call her.


Now that I am a mother myself, I cherish every moment with my girls.  I know these moments are not infinite.  I only have them ‘on loan’ for a small time. Mr K and I are truly blessed with three brilliant, charming, funny girls, all different, all unique and all worthy of as much love and attention as we can heap on them.


Mr K and I surround ourselves with friends and family who also adore the girls, and we’re so fortunate to have these wonderful people around us because you never fully understand the loss until it happens: the void that’s left, the sorrow so sharp it makes you catch your breath every single time you remember.

The Gang of Five

My mother left us too soon but she left secure in the knowledge that we had each other. My dad cared for her beautifully, and now helps keep her memory alive for myself and my brother. My brother and I will make sure all five of her grandchildren know her even though she sadly only got to meet three of them.

Today is the day I allow myself a moment to catch my breath and to remember everything about her, down to the smell of the perfume she used to wear. Family was the most important thing to her.  A sentiment passed on to her by her mother, a woman I also adored. Our eldest daughter is named after them both and I hope she loves her sister as much as my mum loved my aunts. I hope she loves me as much as I loved my mum.

Middle kid with my cousin,
her Godmother

Whether you are an aunt, a mother-in-law, a godmother or a wonderful friend whose capacity for love is seemingly limitless, it doesn’t matter. All these people provide support that helps me take on the hardest role of all. I am grateful for all these people in my life and I hope they know how much.

To my friends who are mothers: well done. I mean that sincerely. I am in awe of you all and all you do every single day.  To those who have lost their mothers, to those who have suffered loss as mothers, and to those who long to be mothers but sadly can’t take on that role, you are special and loved every single day even if life passes so quickly you don’t always get a chance to stop and notice.

I was proud to have Mary as my mum and if, as my middle daughter suspects, she does have Facebook in heaven, I hope she is pain free, happy and proud too.

Mary Taylor.  Mum, granny, sister, aunt, wife and best friend.
Missed every day.

  1. Anonymous

    A beautiful blog for all Mothers, in this life, past and future.

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