Last Sunday was Mother’s Day here in Australia, a day when little fingers fumble with unfamiliar domestic tasks to spread jam stickily over toast, and little mouths pucker up to give extra kisses. It is also a day of sadness for so many without their darling mums. We always think of Granny Heather and keenly feel her absence. I mourn her especially for my boys who she so adored.
The most poignant moment of Sunday was following a family in the Mother’s Day Classic who wore on their backs a variety of messages for one person; ‘Mum’, ‘Mother-in-law’ and ‘Grandma’ scribbled in a childish hand. The atmosphere at the event struck me again, the hope and determination of everyone there palpable.
We bumped into some friends of ours, a family who, like us, has three boys who are being asked at the moment for bravery such as is asked of too many as they support their mum through her treatment. Seeing them walking together (Mum too) was inspiration indeed. My love to all those I know who are fighting this dreadful illness. You are all, without exception, unspeakably brave and I am proud to be your friend.
I was also the very lucky recipient of some thoughtful and beautiful gifts…