Its funny how random things bring up random memories from the past.
While in New Kiwi Land (I’m sure you can figure that one out) me and Becbec would frequently visit book shops (a highly popular one named W.hi.tcouls. I think that’s how its spelt - minus the full stops, duh!). There was one book we stumbled across (I say we just for fun, because Becbec would disagree with me, and say that she found it, which is true, but because we were both there I am saying WE). I cannot, for the life of me, remember what it was called. I shall Google it and see if I can find out the name, so I’ll BRB. :D… Ahh I found it. Things I Want My Daughters To Know. [(http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/1152201.Things_I_Want_My_Daughters_to_Know seems a good site if you want information on it) I don’t know how to do those special link things so bare with me yea?]
It’s about a woman who realises she doesn’t have long left (from the blurb it doesn’t tell what her reasoning for ‘dying’ is.) so she writes letters to her four daughters, offering them advice and help and stuff (yes, very eloquently put via me. I know I know).
That’s just one part of it.
Tonight, I was reading some stories - which I have a tendency to do - I found some rather sad ones. The first one, the main character had aids, so was dying, and obviously, as all stories seem to go, he died. It was heartbreaking and I balled my eyes out. The second one the main character had cancer, and once again, died. I, once again, balled my eyes out, and I think that one got me worse then the first one.
But both stories left me thinking, especially after a line in the first one, hold on, I’ll get it:
“It’s not fair! It’s not fair for you and it’s not fair for me and I’ve been trying so hard to just act like I’m okay with this so that I can be strong for you, but I can’t anymore! I don’t want to die, I don’t want to leave you, and I’m scared and it’s not fair!”
That line was when I started crying. And I didn’t stop crying until the end. Which was quite a fair way.
It made me think about Mum. And it made me realise that I didn’t really know what she was going through, I still don’t.
Mum was so strong through her entire cancer. I watched her struggle through her every day routines, and I guess I didn’t even see her struggles, more, I didn’t realise she was struggling. (in my defence though, it wasn’t really my fault, I was just a kid, so I cant have been expected to have realised it).
I didn’t really know what Mum was like, and I only have short, fragmented memories of her. There are things that remind me of her, and stuff like that (there we go with the eloquence once more). But, like, I didn’t know what she was like as a woman, not just a mother. Because she was a great mother. When I picture what a mother should be like, I picture her. She looked after me and my sisters (as one would expect she did do). She taught us so much, she would sit with me and GeeGee (or G-Force as she is now known as) and teach us to read every night (or in my memory it was every night, it might not have been though). She was the perfect mother, well in my eyes anyway (or at least, when I wasn’t naughty and in trouble :D). Even when she was sick she would play with us girls, and everything.
But none of that is the point. Mum was a woman. She was human. And I always forget that. She was into Spirituality. She was a reiki master, she was one of those people that could tell you about your past life. She was a tarot reader. She went to the psychic conventions, and had spiritualistic friends. She had a Guardian Angel, his name was Peter, if I recall correctly. She had a purple robe (which has now been passed onto me) she had necklaces, and tie-dye clothes, she had books on crystal healing.
I have her old High School diaries, and they are a reminder that she was once a teenager. (even though sometimes I think she was more rebellious then I have ever been). I learnt about her through her diaries. And I never felt bad about reading them once. Because I believe I am entitled to read them, because I will never get the chance to ask her personally.
The quote I mentioned earlier, it made me realise, I didn’t/don’t know how she really felt while alive and suffering from cancer. It made me wonder if she felt like that much, if she was just trying to be as strong as possible for us girls.
I just wish I could ask her about it. I just wish I could ask her anything.
As I said when I first started this post. ‘Its funny how random things bring up random memories from the past.’ random stories made me think about it, and now I have all these thoughts in my head about it all, and I just cant get it into words. I cant express what I want to say, because, I don’t think there is an actual way to say it.
She was my mother, and I wish I knew what she was really like.
She IS my mother, and I wish she knew who I have become.
There was so much I wanted to say before I started writing, and once I started I got lost, and couldn’t find the right words. But that doesn’t matter, because I understand, and it doesn’t matter if no one else does, because. It just doesn’t.
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