18th January, 1947 :: happy birthday Mummy Plummy

My Mum was the most influential, astounding woman (person) I will ever know. How can I say this, surely I will meet many more people in my lifetime. Yes, I hope, keep hoping and looking for someone to "replace" (not replace, add to my memories of a 'Mama-figure') the woman who gave me my life in every way possible.

Today you would be 61. I keep thinking how you would be as an "old woman" - not that 61 is anywhere near to old, but years and years from now, what would you be like. Five years ago, what were you like. Some days I barely remember your face, your voice, your laugh, but most of all your words. These are what I want to remember the most :: your words and intentions, the way that you challenged stereotypes and narrow-mindedness. The way you reached out and helped and offered your love, time, knowledge, warmth, kindness, whatever you could to assist someone else, anyone else. You were always helping people :: often times to the detriment of yourself, but that didn't stop you, did it Mum?

Sometimes when my son calls me Mum, I stop and think about you. Softly, slowly. Little things of who you were. Mainly of the fact that you will never meet these babies of ours on this Earthly plain. Though I know, and they know too, that you see them in their dreams. And that you know these little ones of mine so deeply and intimately and intensely :: you know who they were, who they are, who they will be.

I know that you know that of me too. You are such a wise woman, soul. Deep, warm, giving, sharing, knowing, feeling, being. Who you are :: were is so deeply ingrained in me that I know it does not matter if I don't remember your voice, words, smell every day or even every week. I remember, I know your being, your soul. I am you (of sorts).

So this year I will be with all the little babes. The two you met (though briefly) - Taliesin and Ashra, the one you knew about before you left us - Sidera, and the three you choose for us - Ari, Rollie and Mischa. Not with all my siblings, but with their offspring - and that is rich and loud and loving and intense in itself. We will have a party for you. Anouk and I will tell tales about you, stories and memories and wishes. We keep trying to show the Grandchildren who never really knew you, who you were, what you were.

And I will continue to remember that you will always smell of the warm, musky aroma of mothers-breast milk, to me. And that as you nurtured me, and your children, you taught me (us) to nurture my (our) children in the most natural, instinctual way a mother can. And that as a mother, I know you will be proud of me.

Happy Birthday. Cake and Champagne will be on the menu for sure.