One family story I have been told is that when I was a
little girl and taken shopping for a gift for my mum I chose a heavy glass beer
jug, the kind where the top curls in at the side of the pouring lip. The grown-ups with me tried to talk me out
of it because my mother was a dyed in the wool teetotaller – a result of a very
difficult childhood. Nothing however
would dissuade me and I’m sure my mum oohed and aahed over the jug when I
proudly presented her with it. Now I have
that jug and I treasure it as a reminder
of my Mum.
When my kids were little there were the usual gifts from the
school mother’s day stall, which all the mums had donated items to. And of course the treasured cards made with
little hands and printed so carefully.
My sister –in-law, when she had her twins and brought them
home, had 4 children under 3. She was
much more organized than me. The first
time my brother gave his kids money to go and buy her a mother’s day gift they
went off in four different directions to find the right gift. Every one of them
bought plastic flowers. Now my sister-in-law hated plastic flowers with a vengeance
and had never had them in the house so I suppose the kids thought they were a
treasure and said sister-in-law had to display them for months until they were
forgotten and she could finally throw them out.
These of course are the gifts we really cherish because they
are so personal from our children. So I hope you all have spaces for little handmade
cards or if your kids are grown maybe you have some from your grandchildren. Now
I have grown kids and two daughters took me out for breakfast and spent the day
with me. It was just lovely. I know they are so busy in their lives but
they spared the time for me. The boys
contacted me from a distance away and I had a lovely chat.
Now today things have gone back to normal. But the memories
stay – both old and new to warm my heart.
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