Genetic predisposition for martinis?
A couple of weeks ago, my mum sent me a whole bag of her jewellery. It was stuff I’d coveted since I was in nappies – gorgeous old brooches that belonged to her mum, necklaces and earrings. Many of the earrings were ones I’d given her myself, so, you know, impeccably tasteful stuff.
I called her the following day (she lives in QLD) and asked if everything was OK. I joked that it felt like the final acts of a woman who was about to shuffle off this mortal coil (our conversations are peppered with Shakespeare references). She assured me that, no, everything was fine but that I’d probably appreciate the bling more than her.
I hung up the phone feeling incredibly sad. She’s just turned 77, is still sharp as a blade, but it hit me that she’s 77. She probably doesn’t have all that much time left. She’s beaten breast cancer in the past couple of years and I suspect her body just feels. tired. We are close, but haven’t lived in the same town since 1989, so I don’t see her all that often.
My mum is not a particularly demonstrative person, it’s not her thing. Some people call her standoffish, aloof, but she’s not really. She’s introspective and kind and strong and sometimes I don’t understand her motivations, but she’s always there if I need to talk about anything. When I was in my mid 20s, I felt like she couldn’t be bothered with me – she became very close to my brother when I was overseas and gave him a lot of intense support during that time. It pissed me off and I mentioned it to her (I may have had a couple of whiskeys by this stage), and she turned to me and said, “Kimberley, I’ve never had to worry about you. You were always the strong one, the independent one. Your brother needs me more right now” (aka: get over yourself and go climb K2 or something.)
She’s right, of course, I’m a bit of a life warrior and I’ll wear the hell out of her marvellous bling as that is why she sent it to me, but I can’t help feeling that she’s starting to tie up all her loose ends. When she goes, the world will lose a wonderful, vital, exceptional woman who never made me and my brother feel anything but loved even though her “I love yous” are few and far between.
Our relationship isn’t perfect, but then nothing ever is.
Because everyone puts their bling into the succulents
Amazing how much more perspective we gain on our own parents as we too get older, and also having kids of one’s own helps!
Yes! I’m finally getting some perspective after all these years (aided by sherry, maybe). Who would have thought? Kx
Beautiful writing Kim! Your Mum sounds like a great, strong woman – must be where you get it from! BTW can’t get over how much Scout I see in that first photo – scary – is there any of Melbourne Dad in there at all?
Thanks Vanessa – she is a strong woman, very stoic. No. No Melbourne Dad in Scout much. Except for her predisposition for vaguing out and maybe the size of her eyes. Kx
Your Mum sounds very similar to mine and sometimes I found it hard when I was growing up – but how amazing is it the way age just puts so much into perspective and often brings you closer. Rock that bling hun – for you and your mum!
xx
Thanks Son. It’s funny, I never really noticed she wasn’t demonstrative when I was growing up as it was all I knew. But when I moved away from home and fell in with some SERIOUSLY touchy-feely people, I felt so awkward and out of my depth with them.
As an adult I’ve become really cuddly and affectionate and hug/kiss/tell my kids I love them every single day, so I think paradoxically, mum and I have grown apart in one sense but also grown closer if that makes sense. Age definitely puts it into perspective, you are so right, but you can’t change who people are, if you love them, you just accept it.
BTW, the bling is AWESOME. You’ve no idea how many times I’ve wanted to slip that shit into my luggage on my rare trips home.
Kx
This brought a tear to my eye, in a good way. And that bling is ROCKING!