Tuesday, 10 December 2013

in mind

80 today. Tonight we will toast you and wish you were here to share our meal. You didn't quite make your goal and I know that was one of the few things to make you sad towards the end so I will try extra hard to be happy tonight. To try and magic you up to see out your eightieth year in style, in our warm embrace.


I spent today doing a jam making meditation, making apricot jam with the fruit from our tree and your recipe. I thought about so many things - the way you gardened and cooked, the wholesome domestic life you provided for us. The way you taught me to cook, the long days I spent perched beside the stove while you worked. I thought about summers and fruit picking and jam making and watering the garden in the dusk and harvesting vegetables for dinner. I thought about the beauty of your work and the rhythm of our days. I felt you right there in the shape of my mind while I worked.

Not a day goes by that you aren't in my mind mum, and every day it's a surprise to find I can't call you on the phone, or drop by and see you. You are so present and so absent all at once - you haven't dimmed at all, but somehow everything else seems a little less bright. The jewel tone of the jam on my bench comes close to being as bright as I remember yours being, close but its very taste is missing you.

7 comments:

Fiona said...

What a beautiful tribute. I am so sorry for your loss, Sooz. xxx

Fiona said...

What a beautiful tribute. I'm so sorry for your loss, Sooz. Your mother sounds like an inspiring woman. xxx

Kate said...

Beautiful words x

Nikki said...

Your feelings echo my own, Suzie, and your inimitable eloquence has once again brought a tear or twenty to my eye.


After years of not being able to call my mother, I'm still surprised by the number of times I go to the phone to ask something or to share something with her... but then when I remember, I also realise that her influence is so strongly within me, that she will always be here. She's in the things I do and say, my looks and my mannerisms... and I hear her voice guiding me gently when I don't know what to do. And of course, I will pass on parts of her to my own daughter. A life well-lived goes on living well.

There is much to celebrate on your mother's 80th. Love to you. xx

Ali said...

A hard day, but I think you are right. I feel sure your Mum was there with you.

travellersyarn said...

Wonderful photo and poignant writing. Beautiful....

Ren said...

So beautifully written and with so much love.