Motherless Daughters - The Decade Edition

" I grew up the day you left us, but every night your lullaby plays in my head"

The above quote really resonated with me, From the moment I left that room November 16th, 2012, life had changed. I had changed, you change immeasurably when you lose a parent, but like the quote I am soothed by the lullaby that plays in my head when I think of them. Whether it be a nursery rhyme, a song or a saying that ties to them, when the lullaby plays, I am a child again, comforted by familiarity.

There are a lot of "lullabies" when it comes to my mother, some not in the traditional sense of the word. Mostly because her music taste was varied and eclectic, I like to think mine is similar. She was fierce when she needed to be, sharing her opinion easily. But she was warm, she drew people to her that were in need of someone - a friend, a parental figure or just somewhere to feel safe. Our house was always full when we were young, friends came and stayed. My brothers' friends playing pool in the front yard, ours choosing to stay over because Mum made them feel welcome and ease. She was a friend to those who needed it.

For us, she was our Mum. She championed us and made us who we are, she could bust your balls at times, and she absolutely did. But she was there, consistently and without expectation. When she finally found out I was pregnant at 16 after hiding it from everyone, and from myself she was my greatest supporter. I can say now without too much shame that I know I had disappointed her, it wasn't the life that she wanted for her children. But she threw every ounce of her being into being that boys Nanna. And it suited her, she adored being a grandparent. One of the hardest thoughts that occupy my waking hours is that she didn't get to know all of her grandchildren, but I know she would have been just as enthusiastic and involved, they are amazing.

And at this ten-year mark, these are the thoughts that bring me the most sadness. When you lose a parent, you grieve for your own loss, but as time goes on you grieve for their losses, the life they should have had, and the experiences denied to them. As the years have gone on, I have grieved for my own missed milestones with her - I will never celebrate big birthdays with her, she won't see my children go to college or learn to drive. I will never see her grow old.

That one hurts, in an ageing population when it seems that everywhere I go I am surrounded by families I have been known to catch my breath seeing an elderly lady and her daughter out shopping, I wonder what she would have been like as an old lady. Would she still be fierce and swear like a sailor? .... probably.

This blog is not here to make anyone sad, I had the most awesome relationship with my mum, not only as her daughter but as a friend as well. She knew a lot more than most parents get to know about their children, and I feel that we knew her too. Caring for her in the time before her death was the hardest most rewarding time of my life and I'd never change it. I am lucky to have had the support of my brother and sister. And I thank my parents for them daily.

I firmly believe that we were privileged to be with our mother at the time of her death, many children statistically are not, and although it'd go down in my book of "hardest moments of my life" I wouldn't change it. I was brought into the world by a strong, resilient woman and I am honoured to say she left this world in the company of slightly broken but resilient, loving family.

10 Years on feels like a lifetime some days, other days I wonder how so much time could have passed with me remembering every detail. There has been sadness without her, times when I have needed her more than I ever thought possible but there has also been joy. Moments that stay with me forever, that I hold closer knowing things can change in the time it takes to walk through a doorway.

She is the reason for that, for the joy that carries on in our family. For the resilience to face the next challenge and the humour with which to do it, and I am forever thankful for her.