Hey there

I’ve been away; I mean, I’ve been around physically, but in my spirit I’ve been away, contemplating, thinking, reflecting, basically trying to get my house in order. That is never an easy gig, but at least on one level, it explains why I haven’t been writing the blog articles; I think that the changes in my life of late have fuelled this blogging hiatus; change is never easy, & the most recent bout of changes have taken up almost all of my creative & emotional energy. So like the proverbial winter bear, I have withdrawn to my cave & stared at the world as it has drifted by.

One event that caused more than a moment of pause in my life has been the death of my mother just a little while ago. Mum was in her late 80’s & even though by all accounts she had lived a long & full life, even though she was getting on & her body had for sometime now been less than a willing participant in her life, when she died, she was still my mum, & I miss her for all of the right reasons, and some of the wrong ones. Most of you who regularly read this will not have ever met my mum, so let me briefly introduce you to the woman who bore me into the world & raised me to become the man that I am today.

Rose Anne Jackson was a post world war 1 child; born into humble circumstances in Scotland & grew to be (by all accounts) a vibrant & somewhat attractive young woman. She served in World War 2 as a signal operator (morse code I think) & not long after the war ended, sailed to Australia for what was to be a medium term visit. Some 60 years, 1 husband, 6 children, and 21 grandchildren later, we buried her at the Springvale Cemetary in a plot with my departed father. My reminiscing has mainly been of a woman who had great tenacity & endurance, who fiercely loved her children & grandchildren, (although displays of more than passing affection were rare) who throughout her life showed an amazing pioneering spirit, & who lived a life of simple devotion to her God.

Ok, so this is the abbreviated version, but you see, my words will never suffice to sum up just what one person has done to allow me to live the life that I do. The sacrifices that mum (& dad) both made; the effort to provide for their own; the passing on of their faith; When I think about Mum’s life, it’s not without some measure of regret. I wish she could have been more free to visit the distant family back in Scotland; I wish I could have built a granny flat for her in my home in Warby; I wish I could have gone to Scotland at least once with her. I wish I could have communicated with her at least in some small way just how grateful I was for all she had done for me.

So now she has gone, & I am grateful she is no longer suffering. I’m glad that my own children got to know her well enough so that they too will think of her fondly.

I miss you mum. R.I.P.

Would you like to share your thoughts about someone (living or dead) that you love?

MM

This entry was posted on Friday, August 31st, 2007 at 4:25 pm and is filed under uncategorised. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.