Mothers day

Love and prayers, to all the mothers who have or had cancer, who have supported family and friends with cancer. Extra Blessings on those who because of treatment, can’t hug their kids.

Mothers day is a day to celebrate your mother, but it has mixed emotions when you have lost your mother. I lost my mother to cancer, and I miss her every day. I think I would be a better mother, if she was around. She passed away, just before my son was born, she was so excited for that birth. She couldn’t wait to meet him. Yes, she knew he was going to be a boy, while the rest of us had to wait to find out. My mum with one of her friends made so many baby clothes and one, they were so proud of was a little sailor suit.  My children have missed her, even though three of them have never met her, they know the stories and heard all about her from their pop and aunties and uncles. One of my daughters looks so much like her, it’s often commented on, she has a link with her nan because of that, she has a little Daphne face. But they have missed out on knowing a wonderful, peaceful, loving woman. The door was always open, my mum was always there to lend a helping hand. She would sit with people who just wanted to talk, or needed a shoulder to cry on.

She raised her family to be proud of their heritage, to hold their head up high. She told all the girls in the family they were as good as the boys, if not better and to not let anyone put you down. She used to say “You’re black and your female, the world already has it against you. You go out there, hold your head up and show them what a black woman can do”.  She used to tell her daughters, “you’re black, you’re beautiful, you’re you, don’t be afraid to be black and beautiful”. When I had my first child and my mums friends, were sitting around OPAL sharing advice, my mums advice was, “I don’t want to be the mum with the cleanest floors, I want to be the mum who had time and played with her kids”. She did just that. Our house was messy, it was always clean, floors mopped everything dusted, but it was messy, with kids, toys everything. She had time for her kids. Her kids, weren’t just her biological children, but the other children she raised, or who just were at our house.

She was not all profound quotes, she was a bit of a ratbag at times, especially if you were cleaning. One of her favorite tricks, was to dance, where we had just mopped, now when you’re a kid and someone does that, you just want to get angry. But my mum would dance and sing “Whistle While You Work”, this was so lame, that you would end up giggling, and that would encourage her to do more. She was a great cook, and enjoyed cooking, she didn’t enjoy preparing a meal, but enjoyed when she could just bake, or have fun with food. This experimentation wasn’t welcome to my da, who was a bit of a grump and a meat and potato kind a man. But us kids, we loved the different flavors she came up with.

My mum loved to sit down with a cuppa and have a chat, or tell stories, the funny incidents from her childhood, or the sad. She was a born storyteller, she believed that was the way to pass on our history. Stories were of our family, of her time being a domestic, how she had to go to the black window every time she was allowed to buy something. The good the bad and the very ugly. My favorite story was of my parents wedding. How hard it was for them to marry a white Irish immigrant to an Aboriginal woman. But they did it. My mum always said, “Love sees no colour”.

Happy Mothers Day Mum, I love you and miss you.

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About proudblacksista

An Aboriginal woman. mother of 4 diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumour 7 years ago.I want to share my story to help others. I am working to help other Aboriginal people face the battles of Cancer. Email me with your stories or concerns at aboriginalcancer.com View all posts by proudblacksista

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