I am dedicating today's blog to my dear departed mum, who sadly passed away a year today and unfortunately has fallen on Mother's Day.
So, please ignore today's post if you think it will upset you.
It has been a difficult time trying to ignore all the media advertising from florists, card shops and restaurants everywhere I look.
I had to keep the radio and TV off today and wasn't quite sure what to do with myself.
I wanted to do something for my mum, but I didn't know what to do, so I thought I would put words on my thread to remember her by.
I never liked 'Mother's Day' anyway, because of 'media' telling you when you should treat your mum and buy her flowers, which should be done as and when you feel like it. However, my mum would give me what for, if I forgot her flowers and didn't remember. 'Thanks darling', she would say. And then she would say, 'You shouldn't waste your money on me'.
Spring flowers were her favourites. Daffodils, tulips, narcissus, iris and freesias. But she loved her anemones, which were always hard to find.
I buy them for me now and place them by my mum's photo.
Don't get me wrong, time is helping with moving on, but I have just gone through the 'firsts'. The first Christmas, the first birthday, Anniversary and now Mother's Day.
She was my Mum, my best friend, my companion and my Life!
She would give me her honest opinion, advice, wisdom, courage, a home and help in times of dire straits. Who else would do that?
We really don't realise until they have gone, how important they are in our life and when she became ill, I cared for her and letting her go was the most difficult thing I have had to do in my life.
I can't believe I miss her nagging, her disapproval, her sharp tongue and her taste in music. Lets face it, who like Frankie Vaughan and Johnny Mathis?
But she also liked the stuff I like and I can now listen to it, without bursting in to tears all the time.
I used to jib her about her cooking, but she was a good cook and made a fabulous chicken and leek pie and a trifle to die for.
Always smart herself and always commenting on how scruffy I look.
"I'm being urban mum", I would say. That's the fashion.
"Well, you look like a bag of shit", my mum would say.
I always managed to make my mum laugh. I would say silly things and do a funny dance for her or make my hair stick out and then ask her, "What do you think of my new hair do". "Silly cow", she would say. "How old are you", she would ask as if I should be acting like a grown woman and not a kid.
We had a Love/Hate relationship. But, deep down, we had a strong bond.
I used to think to myself, "Blimey, my mum's getting old", but she always looked young to me. Nothing! Prepares you for when they leave you and how you feel after they have gone.
The day is nearly over, but my memories of my mum will live on.
So, until next time...............