My mummy’s dead
Sunday 10 March, as well as Sunday 12 May were both classed as Mothers Day, the first in the UK and last Sunday was International Mother’s Day.
My mum died in July 1985, I remember the year better than the day as it was the year of Live Aid. The day my mum died, however, I remember and think I always will. I used to call over to see if Mum wanted anything and to have a chat about the unimportant things we could talk about. The Wednesday my mum passed I was down in Basingstoke picking up the kids for their summer holidays. It was just one of those unfortunate events, I’d told mum that I’d call over on the Sunday after dinner with her granddaughter (my daughter) and we’d spend the afternoon with her and dad. I left on the Tuesday night to travel by coach, arriving in Basingstoke at midday. Apparently mum died about then, so I’d have discovered her body had it been a normal Wednesday.
I still miss my mum, we used to shoot the breeze but I think it helped us both having the opportunity to talk about life, without worrying about anything. I know I looked forward to spending a couple of hours where it was just the two of us, nobody else around. Both my brothers were working and we were all married and had flown the nest. Because I was a full time (im)mature student and had Wednesday afternoons free, I checked up on mum then, on my way home.
Sorry this is getting harder to write so I’m gonna leave off, but one thing I will stress please take care of your mum while you have her, even if its just one day a year.