Quite a while ago, I talked about writing about my mum here, as a way to remember her. I find I forget little things as the years go on. I've just had one of those long, tangenty thinks with lots of wee bits about her, and I'd like to record these more often. It might be a bit rambly...
My mum was a person made of love and kindness. She always had scones or a roll or dinner for friends of Hazel and I when we came home from school (whether they were going home for dinner or not. My best friend often happily had two dinners!). She liked to get little gifts for people. We lived in a three bedroom house with my nana, and when I was fourteen, she shared a room with my sister so that I could have space. When we were little, she ran a mother and toddler's group, and was always feeding the kids. I only later realised it was because things were tight for a lot of the other mums. She made me summer fruit pudding for my birthday cake three years in a row because I loved it. I've not tasted one to match hers since. Our cousins used to take turns to stay with us at the weekend, and we'd bake and watch films and listen to Queen - my cousins, all in their 20s now, still talk about those Friday nights.
My mum could be stubborn. My aunt says I inherited that quality, and I can't deny it. She was clever as well, book smart, but also parent smart. She used to do this thing where if I wanted to do something she didn't approve of, she's say 'it's up to you what you do, but I'd rather you didn't. It drove me mad, because I had a choice but she knew I wouldn't want to upset her. I'm thankful for it now, because she stopped me doing a lot of stupid stuff.
Whenever people talk about my mum, they talk about how kind she was, how funny she was, how welcoming. She was all of those things. :)