In light of International Women’s Day last week, and not just for the imminent Mothering Sunday (damned if I'll be sold into another commercial money making enterprise...aside from Christmas and Easter, oh and I do heart Valentines...doh) am I dedicating this entry to my Ma. Because she is my undisputed champion. The constant in my little universe, my clingon who carries on loving and wowing me through everything...Hands down, my First lady.
Yes, for all the mandatory reasons (vile moments of adolescence, break ups, scraps and sickness...the endless list) but really for being the one person who still knows me more than I know myself. When flailing she is there waving, reassuring me and I feel safe knowing that she will never see me drowning.
Yes, yes it has been known for us daughter types to do the brush off thing and race ahead into an all consuming, independent city life: “Seriously mum we spoke just last week”, “Oh yeah that happened ages ago”, “Errrm maybe the following weekend...?” But when it comes to it, Mum you are always there in my head and heart behind every conscious move, decision, outfit, recipe, novel, trip, pitch, panic and glitch. Completely completing me.
You have given me Sinatra, Enid Blighton, JFK, etiquette and expectation, a savvy eye for a bargain, a ferocious steer on the road, a pride in myself and my approach to life, The Way We Were, poetry, Compton Abbas, interiors, Austin, Constantine Bay, The L Shaped Room...and ‘love, love, love in all the world’.
What's more is that as I clamber through my twenties I realise that I am becoming more and more like you Muv, something that I willingly accept and encourage because I think you're pretty f***ing fabulous. The crunch in my peanut butter, the HOT milk in my Americano...my MUST HAVE.
ATLINW
xxx
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