Mother's Day & Memories of My Mum

It's that day when we share memories and anecdotes about our mums. Here's are some stories about my mother and the things she did:

1.  She was a philosopher, demonstrated by the occasion when she passed a washcloth to the then five-year-old me, who was sitting in the bathtub, and advised, 'Don't wash your bum and then wash your face.' A metaphor for how to go through life.  

2.  Once told me, 'You're pretty enough without makeup.' Not true, but thanks, anyway, even if it was during an argument because I wanted to wear makeup. 

3.  Warned me that if a balloon burst in my face, it would blind me. To this day, I have an almost insurmountable fear of having a balloon burst in my face if I am called upon to blow it up.

4.  Was very musically inclined and had a singing voice like Judith Durham's. She often performed a solo at twenty-first birthday parties. One of my happiest memories is us attending a production of Les Miserables at the Theatre Royal, Sydney. When the lights came on during the interval, I said, 'Are you enjoying it, Mum?', and she replied, 'Oh, I'm just loving it, darling.' 

5.  When I was about fourteen and was having a friend stay during school holidays, she hopped into the loungeroom dressed as a Playboy bunny. No, I am not making that up.

6.  We were having drinks with some relatives and my uncle jokingly suggested he would have his newly installed swimming pool converted to a nudist colony. He suggested to my mother she put a red dot on each buttock to denote a pair of breasts. Mum replied, 'How about a 'W', so every time I bend over, it says: WOW?'

7.  Would do a reading at Sunday Mass, and often forget to take her glasses with her to the lectern.

8.  Occasionally called me Simoney-Baloney. 

9.  Tended bar at the pub owned by my grandmother, where she caught the eye of a young rodeo champion who liked to have a drink there. This guy was very shy and Mum was at her wit's end, so she climbed into the passenger seat of his ute and said she was coming along to the rodeo with him. The man was undoubtedly stunned, but he acquiesced to her wishes, and some years later became my father! 

Mum succumbed to an aggressive cancer on New Year's Day, 1993. Some years later, I became a mum and understood why she would get so annoyed at me when I fartarsed around instead of getting ready for school, or when I complained I couldn't find something that had been put in my drawer. I drove her mad tearing out pages from her writing pad so I could write my little 'books'. Now I've written big books and wish she was around to witness this.

From my mother, I inherited my sense of humour and theatricality, as well as a distinctive set of eyebrows. She never met my kids, but they both have a sense of humour, distinctive eyebrows, and the youngest has a theatrical streak, too. 

Happy Mother's Day, Mum. Wish you were here.