Hi, just a quick introduction about me and what my site is about. I am a 50 something woman, a woman in my prime, some would say. I would say just a woman, getting on with life and learning and discovering along the way.
I like to write. I write about anything and everything. It all depends on my mood, on if I feel I have something to say or if something just pops into my head and turns out to be the first line of a new poem.
I like to write about my life, my experiences or my perceptions of things. I have no distinctive style or agenda, just thoughts, the good, the bad and the ugly and I like to relay them here. Whether it is a relationship with ourselves, our families, our friends, or the world and planet around us, we all have relationships and we all have an opinion, an observation or an impact in those relationships.
I hope you enjoy this journey with me and I hope you can relate with some of what I have to say or at least that you may get a bit of a giggle sometimes. I wish you all the best in all your Relay shun ships…….
For all the women who are mothers, remember to be kind to yourself…..
Image – Authors own…
On this side of the Atlantic it is Mother’s Day today. It is a day set aside in the year to show your appreciation, love and gratitude…… or not.
Not all are necessarily ‘good mothers’. Some women long to be a mother, but nature has taken away their chance to be one, and so Mothers day can be a torturous reminder of what they are missing out on. The rest fall somewhere in between, including me.
I have been a mother for 34 years. I have been a foster mother for 19 years and I have been a grandmother for 15 years.
For those of us in between, I guess we hope to be ‘good enough’ mothers.
I remember my journey, the day I first became a mother on the 21st April 1989. I felt that I was now complete and my world was right there in my arms as I cradled my newborn baby girl.
From that moment my life changed completely. What went before just didn’t exist and paled into insignificance, and what lay ahead was to be an adventure of discovery.
As my baby grew and developed, so did I. As she gained new skills, so did I. When she hurt herself, I felt pain. When she achieved the slightest thing, I was her champion. When she cried or sulked or appeared to be in any sort of danger, I was filled with anxiety. I was like a lioness, her protector.
When I went back to work, I felt guilty. A mothers guilt is hard to shake off. You have to balance it with the benefits of what going to work means for your family and try to convince yourself, that it is all for the best.
Leaving your child with a child minder, or at a creche, or play school, while you go to work, builds their social skills and they learn that the separation is temporary, and so the attachment, you hope, it a secure one.
No matter what though and no matter how old they get, you often ask, ‘am I good enough, did I do enough, was I kind enough, firm enough, affectionate enough etc etc. As mothers, we always question ourselves. In being mothers, we often lose ourselves.
It is a hard and arduous task to be a ‘perfect’ mother and I don’t think any of us ever feel that we are.
If we are mothers, then we are also daughters and some will have great relationships with their mothers, some will have strained relationships and some will not really know their mothers at all and be brought up with adoptive mothers, foster mothers etc.
Each relationship will have their ups and downs, their highs and lows, their fall ins and fall outs. That is just human nature, because none of us are perfect and we each, as mothers and daughters, have to navigate our way in our mother daughter relationships.
Like every relationship, it has its strenghts and it has its weak spots. We want to be listened to and we want to be heard (mothers and children). As a mother I have often said to my many children and foster children ‘I am a person’. I think, sometimes, they forget that and just see you as their mother.
As I watch my children, who have their own children, I see their great love, devotion and skills that they have in their ‘mothering’ and I see and hear when they question themselves, ‘if they are good enough’.
Many children (young and grown up) are without their mothers, as they have passed away. This day, is a sad day for them and a reminder of what they are missing out on.
For all the doubters asking ‘am I good enough’, if you are being the best that you can be, give the best that you can give in trying to be the best mother that you can be, then yes, absolutely, you are good enough.
And remember, a mother is still ‘a person’ and like all people, make mistakes, so go easy on yourself and be kind to yourself.
What is one question you hate to be asked? Explain.
One question I hate to be asked is ‘yeah, but who’s your favourite’? I’ve been asked that over the years regarding my children and grandchildren….my answer is always and will always be the same, ‘I don’t have a favourite’.
I can be asked until the cows come home and I still would not, could not, answer the question.
The thing is all my children and all my grandchildren share the same amount of love I carry for them in my heart.
Now, when it comes to all their individual behaviours, quirks, attitudes etc, that denotes how I ‘respond and react’ to them. It does not denote how deeply I love them. If they, or anyone else, has a different opinion on ‘who MY favourite is’, then that is a matter of conjecture and not a matter of fact.
We are all very unique. Possess very different sets of skills, patience, tolerances, resilliences, etc and I guess we all bob along best we can, but as for favourites…..
There is no favourite person only my favourite chocolate bar, or my favourite food, favourite book, favourite movie, favourite destination etc. Even then, it does not always remain the same, it changes.
So as to my children and grandchildren, they are all one of my favourite people on the planet…..
I sat at the table looking out of the window to the river rushing by, trying to steady myself. Trying to anticipate how it would be, telling myself to remain calm, to not cry, to not make it about me.
The waitress brought my drink. I toasted, with a nod to the empty chair. Holding back the tears that were prickling my eyes, wiping the sweat of my palms on my jeans and swallowing hard, the dry lump in my throat.
I ate the dinner in silence. Thousands of thoughts racing in my head. Conversations. Things I would and wouldn’t say.
I went up to my hotel room, checked the time and waited. My stomach lurching. My body began to tremble.
I placed my phone on the dressing table, it was upright and facing the chair. I sat down heavily in it as my legs turned to jelly.
It began to ring that recognisable tone, exclusive to facetime. My heart nearly stopped and with bated breath and a fake smile, I answered.
She looked fabulous, Tired but her usual beautiful self. Her usual cheerful smile. Cracking jokes and making small talk. Her family with her, her husband and children by her side. Her other child, mother and sister on another facetime call.
Distance of being in another country, difficult, but at least we had technology.
‘I really hope i go tonight’, she said. ‘I’m ready’.
‘i love you. I’ll miss you, but i hope you get your wish’ I said, my heart breaking into pieces and taking everything i had, to not cry.
‘I love you too’ she said
When i hung up the phone i stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was glad in that moment i was alone in the hotel room. I was grateful no one could get to me, to try comfort me. There was no comfort knowing your best friend was about to die.
I walked over to the bed all I could do was punch down so fiercely on the pillows, and scream and cry to try let out the sheer anger that consumed by being.
It was the hardest goodbye I ever had, but I’m so grateful to have been able to have that moment with her.
If I could be someone else for a day I would be my guardian angel, whoever that is. I would be my guardian angel so that I could take a trip back up to heaven and chat with my dad, my friend and my relations and ancestors.
I would love to know and speak to the people in my ancestral line. I would love to hear the stories of their lives when they were on earth. I would love to hear what they would think of the world as it is today and whether they are glad that they lived in the time that they lived in.
I often say I was born in the wrong era. I wonder would my ancestors think the same thing about when they lived?
I think being my guardian angel for a day and chatting with my dad and my friend would be such a hoot. They would think it totally mad and crazy and the craic would be mighty, we would have such a good laugh. When I would have to leave and swap back to being me again, I would feel a little bit lighter about them being up there in the first place.
That old saying ‘Get your teeth into it’ is what I literally did. I drew a picture of the house I wanted to build on a small copy page from my daughters school copy.
At night, in my head, I would walk through the rooms and the next day I would adjust, move or replace walls, doors, rooms and re-draw the house until I had it ‘just right’.
I then gave my copy page drawing to an architect to properly draw me a house and plans.
We moved into the house after six months. I project managed the whole thing from start to finish. I sourced all the tradesmen and was very hands on many times.
When we moved in there was still work to be done. Second fix carpentry was one of them. I have bought the timber for the skirting and architrave which was lurking about in my hall. Many a time I, and my children, tripped over it.
Having ran out of money and patience I decided to go buy a mitre block and took myself off to my brother, who is an expert carpenter (although a very busy one), to show me how to use said mitre block.
After my 10 minute training session I proceeded to haul the timber onto my workman bench and into my mitre block (after having measured the door frames and angles) and picked up the saw.
‘Use it like you are cutting through butter’ my brother said. ‘Keep your index finger straight on the handle pointing towards the end of the saw’. He had demonstrated the position and said ‘just glide it, gently until you get your ‘nik’ then, take longer forward and backward motions keeping your sawing in a nice rhythm and it will be easier than you think’.
So, having gotten the teeth of the saw into the fresh (but dusty) timber, I began to do, just as he taught me, and got ‘my teeth stuck into the task’. I completed the remaining 4 bedrooms, measuring, cutting and nailing the skirting and architraves to the wall and to frame the doors.
No more tripping over timber in the hall and after admiring my handywork, it was now time to put on the painting clothes, grab my brush and paint, and get back to work finishing the job completely!
Relay shun ships 
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