Call your mother. Tell her you love her. Remember, you’re the only person who knows what her heart sounds like from the inside. ~Rachel Wolchin

A decade ago, my mother and I didn’t get along as well as we do today. We have been through a lot and that has made us much closer. She’s now one of my best friends, but growing up I always wanted the ‘mother-daughter’ relationship that my friends or cousins had, but it just wasn’t us. We argued a lot, we didn’t really like each other’s company, we didn’t agree on much at all. Today though, I see a silver lining through all of the hard times. We are so close.  I couldn’t possibly love a person more than I love my mum. When she hurts, I hurt, when she smiles, I smile.  She’s so caring, she doesn’t have the opinion that she can’t learn from me because i’m younger, or that she knows better. She respects when I am honest and have called her out on things I didn’t agree with in the past, and her opinion is equally important to me. The same mutual respect I have with my stepdad. He listens and he acknowledges my opinions and feelings.

My stepdad is one of my best friends too. We laugh a lot, through the tough times as well, and we talk. It’s what I needed growing up and they weren’t really available to talk to, but when I turned 24, it was a turning point. They finally understood that I wasn’t well. Their frustration turned to support. I let go of resentment and we spoke about everything, and to hear them say ‘we made mistakes’, and own them and sincerely apologise, I just respected them even more. It is a really admirable thing when someone swallows their pride and apologies, admits they make mistakes and owns it. That’s something I wish to instil in my own children. That it’s ok to make mistakes, just own them, and apologise when necessary. Personally I find apologising so easy, if i’ve upset somebody, I can’t sleep until I’ve let them know i’m truly sorry. I think it’s a sign of strength and humility.

Even when we didn’t get along so great, I was always so grateful and understood I was fortunate that my parents were around still. I have friends who have lost both parents, and it’s heartbreaking. I’ve seen my own mother lose her parent’s and it was almost unbearable.

I don’t like to focus on the negative, but I am honest. I’m real. I don’t want to say it was always a great mother-daughter relationship, because it really wasn’t for a really long time. There were a lot of issues we talked through extensively. There were tears, hugs, heated discussions, apologies, more hugs. It wasn’t pleasant, it was a little exhausting to talk about the past, but i’m so glad we did. I couldn’t ask for better parents. They see me as an equal, they don’t have a sense of entitlement because they’re older and therefore ‘wiser’ that they are right and I am wrong, they are humble and yet I go to them for their advice often. They get that respect can be lost when you disappoint somebody, regardless of whether you mothered that child. They get that being a parent does not make you exempt from being called out on things.

Those days of arguments are in the past now, and thank goodness for that. Life is far too short. I realised this long before my mum had the stroke. We were already incredibly close by then.

I didn’t visit my mum in the hospital as much as I wanted too. At the time I was not well at all, some days I didn’t leave the house. Going there I wanted to be positive for my mum but i’d just break down crying, so much so that i’d vomit. I couldn’t handle it. I’d literally hide under my duvet like a small child. I was suicidal during this time. I’d like to have been strong, but I wasn’t well beforehand and I felt like a failure not being able to hold it together.  Whilst I was quietly crying in the toilet beside the hospital waiting room the night it happened, someone had the audacity to say at the hospital that ‘she should bloody go home if she’s going to act like that’.  The same person we gave a lift to and we were the reason they were even there, sat in that waiting room with us. Yes I cried, I took myself a way to the bathroom. How anyone can criticise somebody for crying over the chance that losing their mother that night could be a reality, is beyond me. I don’t care how loud somebody cries, even if they scream. My heart is full of love and compassion for anyone experiencing emotional pain and anguish.  I thought I was going to die, the panic attack I was experiencing, I thought my heart was going to give out as I stood in that toilet beside the waiting room. (The person who had an attitude about me crying in the toilet is almost 40 and called me fatty more recently, so they’d probably make a joke about a heart attack at this point. Fat Shaming is mature and dignified isn’t it?). Equally, when you can’t even get your teeth straightened on the NHS as a teenager, without somebody in your family telling you you’re spoilt and they ‘know’ your parents paid for it (Unless my parent’s own the NHS? Do they? ) … I couldn’t even get my teeth straightened, without grief. Apparently they had researched and at 17 there’s no way I got braces on the NHS. Well, I did, so clearly they were misinformed. When you cry in a dentists chair with such low self esteem and they write to an orthodontist about your case, sometimes they accept. Fortunately for me, I was able to have them. I am so glad I no longer have such ridiculousness, jealousy and nastiness in my life now. That is beyond ridiculous and my boyfriend is amazed I was ever around such people. It sounds bizarre to him, but hey, that was my reality once. I couldn’t even get braces without being called a spoilt brat. Lovely!

I don’t want to discuss such people anymore as they’re no longer a part of my life, and I wish I was brave enough to cut those ties sooner. So enough about the entitlement of ignorant unkind overly opinionated hostile people. I don’t want that to be a main feature on my blog, although i’ve encountered too many of those types during my lifetime. I’ve detoxed, and find comfort in knowing i’ll never be like that, and I never have to listen to their BS again.

So my one regret is that I didn’t visit my mum enough. My boyfriend and I had only been going out for a month and even he asked why I didn’t go so often. (part of me was scared to bump into not so nice ‘family’ members) but that wasn’t the only reason. I look back at myself back then and feel like I was so weak. To let anyone intimidate me, but aside from that, to feel as if my mum would be better off without me. The times I did go, my mum would just burst out crying as soon as I walked into a room. One time we went to the hospital restaurant and I remember trying so hard not to cry. or shake… but then, a full blown panic attack. She needed to get well, I felt like I was a burden (something someone unkind said to me, I’ve known some lovely people haven’t I?). I’ve since asked my parents if either of them have ever felt that way, that I was a burden, and they were disgusted that that was ever said to me. But in that moment I was ashamed that I wasn’t well. I was angry that I couldn’t be what others deemed ‘strong’. I felt like she’d be better off without me. That I would hinder her recovery. That I was going to be called self involved or an attention seeker if I cried. Please, if you’re reading this, don’t ever let anybody shame you for crying. Showing emotion. It in no way makes you weak, regardless of age or gender. You have a heart, you have emotions. Some of us wear our hearts on our sleeves and have a gentleness. Don’t let anyone’s harshness make you cold. I realise now that I was more like my mum than I realised. She is an emotional person. She was criticised by the same shitty people when she couldn’t face going in to her dad’s hospital room during his final few days (myself and a few others were there in the room with him for the final 5 days)… but I understood. Even more so in that hospital that night of my mum’s stroke when I paused at the door and thought I was going to collapse. I said to my stepdad ‘I can’t go in there, I can’t’. He understood, just as I understood that my mum couldn’t take seeing her father deteriorating. I’d never criticise her for that. When my grandad was nearing the end (I don’t know a less blunt way to write that) my mum stayed at that hospital in the next room for over a week, the entire time she was just next door, she slept on the sofa. She was there. She just couldn’t face the room and she said her goodbyes before the very end.

I couldn’t take seeing my mum in that hospital that night after her stroke. At that point they were not sure if she was going to survive. I made it to the door and froze. If no-one else had been there, I know i’d have gone in to hold her hand even though she wasn’t conscious, I know that. I’d never allow her to be alone, i’d somehow have forced myself. But I wasn’t the only one there, and I couldn’t in that moment. But today, I do so much for my mother. Not due to obligation, but because I love her. We’re a team. I don’t expect brownie points or praise, I don’t get self gratification. It’s what you do when you love someone. My folks never fail to tell me that i’m loved and appreciated though. The feeling is mutual, I love and appreciate them so much.

My stepdad asked me every day if I was going to go with him to visit her, and he never judged when I couldn’t face it. I did all of her washing, I went out and bought her new nightgowns, I did everything I could whilst at home, but I couldn’t face up to the reality. I guess I was in denial. Maybe I’m not strong 100% of the time. I’ve since asked my mum if she felt let down that I wasn’t there so much, but she said no. She completely understood. One time my auntie asked me to go with her, and I’m so glad she did. It was a lovely afternoon, my auntie did my mum’s nails, we laughed. I was desperate to see my mum and I missed her so much. At this point she was able to sit in a chair, but her speech was not so good. I wish i’d been there every day. I honestly do, and I’ll endeavour to face up to things in the future.

My stepdad was amazing that night. He was in the ambulance and he never left her side. For days he sat beside her bed whilst she was unconscious, slept in the same clothes and shoes. Only leaving her side to get a coffee. Him and I became a team, he was going through so much and my heart hurt for him. My heart hurt for my mother. It was a really dark time.

I just want to take a second to say how much I love and appreciate my best friend. He drove behind the ambulance that night. He was there for us. When we got home, he cried. He loves my mum, he thinks of her like a second mother to him. He was hurting too. During this time I just want him to know, if he ever reads this, that I’ll never forget all that you’ve done for my family… well ‘our family’. You are family. My parent’s love you. My other friend’s mum was terminally ill at the time, yet he was so wonderful and reassured me that my mum would get better, he told me about his uncle who survived a stroke. He was so selfless, and was going through unimaginable pain himself caring for his mother. He always asked how my family were, every single day. Some morning’s he’d speak to me until the sun came up, all through the night.  And for that i’m eternally grateful.

Now that makes me feel really sad, looking back and feeling like I wasn’t worthy of going to visit my own mother, my parents always tell me how much they appreciate what Craig, Tom and I do for them. We were so close, yet I let another’s spiteful words make me doubt myself and whether she’d want me there. It seems ridiculous now, after therapy and now i’m on medication, but back then I had such low self esteem. Why did I let someone’s spiteful words that i’m a burden on my parents make me doubt myself as a daughter? If I was thinking clearly i’d have known that mum mum and I had a great relationship. I knew how she felt about me as a daughter. I’ll never let people’s moronic opinions hurt my like that again.

In recent years, I began to drive again. I hadn’t driven in years and I got behind the wheel of a car again to take my mum to appointments. I’m so glad they asked me to do it, not only for them, but for my confidence. I really didn’t want to, but i’d do anything for them. I’d do anything to help her in her recovery. I love her. I am so grateful that she survived the stroke. It was a big one. I prayed countless times that night, and i’m not super religious (I like to take what I like from each religion and apply it to my life, that common innate goodness), but i’ve prayed every night without fail since that night.

This is my blog, but this post isn’t just about me.  I’m being open about how I feel, but I want to say how awesome my mother is. It’s about my mum. My mum who is kicking ass. My mum who hasn’t let the stroke beat her. She has her down days, but the ratio of good days to bad days has drastically changed over the years. She has more good days now. She inspires me. I’ve watched her learn to walk again, talk again and seen the excitement when she has had feeling in her arm (one arm was paralysed for some time, but she can move it a little now). She has aphasia, but we joke about the ‘guessing game’ when we try to figure out what she’s trying to say. My parents never fail to ask me how each therapy session I attend has gone, even though she has so much going on with her own recovery. She’s hilarious and makes us laugh so much. She gets frustrated to the point of tears when she can’t do what she used to, something as simple as writing her name. We’ve practised though and now she smiles when she writes her name on a birthday card, whereas for a long time she used to cry. I’ve found techniques of making it easier for her and now she’s so quick. She gets her letters the right way around. Like I said, she’s kicking ass. I’m learning to back off and let her be independent more. She loves sweeping. My boyfriend and I got her new brushes and brooms that we tested out in the shops, to make sure they were light enough and easy to manoeuvre. Some days I feel sad when I think of what she can no longer do that she used to love, but then I remind myself how grateful we are that she survived and is still here. When she’s having an emotional day I try to point out the good things, but I also accept that she needs to let out her emotions and telling her what we need to be grateful for isn’t always what she needs to hear in that moment. Just like somebody who is regarded as privileged, is dealing with depression… it in no way makes them an ungrateful person.

So, previously, Craig, Tom and I (Tom, my best friend, who thinks of my parents as second parents to him) took my folks to a lovely farm side restaurant called Skylark. It was lovely, with gorgeous views. This year though, I thought it would be lovely for my cousin and I to take our mum’s to Fawsley Hall for afternoon tea. So we booked it and kept it a surprise. The two sisters (our mum’s) knew we were spending the afternoon together, but had no idea where. They were not disappointed. Upon booking I requested to be seated in The Great Hall. They couldn’t guarantee it, but they did seat us there. (Thank you so much to the staff at Fawsley). The service was fantastic and the afternoon tea was beautiful. Two pots of green tea, and I tried my first ever scone (aged 30!). They weren’t anywhere near as bad as I’d imagine. The pink macarons were lovely, and I tried the salmon sandwiches (I was no longer eating meat by then). My mum had the giggles, and we reminisced and laughed and it was lovely. I highly recommend afternoon tea at Fawsley Hall.

Here are a few photos I took that afternoon…

     Sisters    (my mum on the right, my auntie on the left)

 

I also met my boyfriend’s parents for the first time this year on mother’s day. Finally after almost 4 years, I managed to control my anxiety and meet them. I’d wanted to meet them for so long, but I just couldn’t face a social interaction like that. My previous boyfriend’s parents and I didn’t get along, but I am so glad that on that Sunday I managed to go with Craig to give his mum her flowers. His parents are lovely, and I only wish i’d met them sooner.

 

Also, Craig, being a geek like me, bought me a door mat I had really wanted .. well apparently it was from our fur children. ‘Mummy we walk all over you, so here, walk over this’. I loved it.

 

One important thing before I go. If you suspect that someone has had a stroke, please act FAST. Face, Arms, Speech, Time to call… My stepdad did and it saved my mum’s life.

Thank you for reading my blog post.

I hope you’re well, and I encourage you to tell the people you love that you love them. Don’t be embarrassed, be real, be raw.

With that said,

Much Love,

S

xx