by KARA JOHN
On November 29th 2008 I stood outside the doors to my family’s church, about to walk down the aisle on my wedding day. Little did I know that exactly 3 years later to the day I would stand there again; 7 months pregnant with my first child, about to walk my mother’s coffin down the aisle at her funeral and soon to become “a Mum without a Mum”.
It is now 9 months since then and I have my beautiful daughter Alesia, named after my Mum and I have now started to reflect on my life with and without her.
From family and friends I have had constant sympathetic looks and extra offers of help and support because I don’t have my Mum around to help. I want to scream at them, “You think the tragedy here is I don’t have someone to give me motherly advice when I am a little lost? Or that my Mum isn’t here to help when I am behind in housework, pop down the street or give me a hug when I am over it all?” I am proud to say my Mum taught me to be resilient! Tough! That’s not why I miss the presence of my Mum!
What I didn’t understand before I gave birth was the complete miracle of the mother child bond. I only understood being a child. When I look at my daughter and I am filled with the most selfless and devotional love, I cry out in my mind: “Mum! Is this how much you loved me?!” The tragedy of my situation is only learning this after she had gone. I have missed sharing the gift of motherhood with my Mum.
My Mum, although extremely passionate if you were to have a debate with her, was notoriously bad at showing affection. I always resented the fact that my friends mothers would sweep their daughters in their arms in great big hugs, would go on outing with them and have D&M’s or chat about boys over a coffee.