A Letter to My Mother

Dear Mum,

Growing up I knew you were a great mum not just because compared to the others you seemed the most 'normal.' You provided us with a loving, stable home with much more than most kids get these days. You gave up your social life and sanity to deal with the tantrums, fights, chaos and all round mayhem. I knew you were a great mum, but I never understood you. And I never knew I never understood you until I had a child of my own.

You are told that when you have kids your whole world will change. Before being a parent I thought this meant primarily your time management, your schedules or your sleeping patterns. And they do, but I palmed off this generic comment so frequently mentioned to me as a stock-answer by parents and even by you to try and shock me. "Just wait" you would say, "Just wait till you have kids." It's almost difficult to put into words how your life changes when you have a child (I'm gonna attempt it though.) The sleepless nights are the easy parts. It's like a light bulb clicked in my head and everything you ever said to me now all fit together like the missing piece of a really abstract puzzle.

Eddie and I tried to describe the love we have for Elli to each other last week and what it feels like to be a parent. There are no words nor any physical action that would give the love we feel for her justice. This all-consuming sensation we endure feels like if we love her any more we would implode and even that will never be enough for her. I realised at that moment just how much you must love me and my siblings. How much you must have been heartbroken so many times throughout the years when we fought, when we yelled, for the hurtful things all of us said and for the way we thought of each other in the heat of the moments. But mostly the love; that ridiculous aching love.

So Mum, I am sorry. Sorry that I ever thought of you less than perfect. Because now, as my perception of the entire world has been flipped on its head I get it. I understand our fights, our miscommunications. I apologise. And I know I don't need to because thats the relationship a mother and daughter will ultimately face from time to time but I see how they came about now. It took until holding my baby in my own arms that I became aware of the you as my own mother. I knew you were of course, but I realised you spent the same sleepless nights feeding, playing, worrying, crying over me. Because if you could have loved me just a fraction of the completely overwhelming way I love my daughter, then there is nothing in the world I could have done that would have stopped you from loving me. Even for just one second. Even those moments I hated you, you still loved me it hurt you. I always knew this, I just never understood.

So thank you mum. Thank you for loving me like you did and still do. For sticking by our crazy, for always listening, for always believing in our stories and for always wanting the very best. I get it now. I feel like I've joined that secret club of the "Oh, just wait."

Trying to even describe how much respect I have for you now as a mother and woman is hard. It it's not to say I didn't respect or love you before. It's just different. Like I've gone over the waterfall and emerged victorious. And I know that this applies to most if not all new mums. And even though those who do not have children can appreciate my testimony, and as insulting as it may sound, until they have a child of their own, you honestly do no get it. And I didn't. I really didn't.

As a mother, sometimes I wish I could re-do things better with more knowledge or hindsight to do right by my daughter. As a daughter, I wish I could re-do critical moments with you and try and do right by you. I wish I had the ability to let you know back then during our hard moments that I turn out ok. That you are an amazing mother and that you did the very best job a mum could ever do. That I love you and that you are and will be even more appreciated than you could ever dream.

Because one day, I'm gonna want my daughter to let me know I did ok too.

Always, L xx