My mother died six years ago today. We’re going to brunch in commemoration, though I’m not sure I’m going to bring the Travel Scrabble (as I would have done if it had been Mum and I going).
She was an amazing lady. Realistically, I don’t know how I could ever turn a blog post into something worthy of her wonderfulness, so instead I will talk about how, at my grandmother’s funeral (coincidentally, The Elder Matriarch would have been 101 today – yes, her 95th was a terrible day), I was taken aback by something on the wall of St Timothy’s church and suddenly felt like I was in Back to the Future.
Third from the left in this photo of the confirmation class of 1959-60 is the scowly, eyerolly face of my own adolescence! Okay, my nose is different and I was far less dedicated to trying to get my (similarly) ramrod straight hair to curl, but that’s pretty much my face. Through my tears, I laughed, because Mum was there, and is here, in my face, always.
Here’s a song that played at her memorial service. It was chosen by my aunt (her sister), who said that whenever she heard it, she thought of Mum. And although I don’t remember my mother ever listening to it, it fits her pretty much to a tee.
And then we played this, because it fit too. 🙂