h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

This is the first Mother's Day since my mom died. It is more bittersweet than sad for me. As most of you know, my relationship with her was sometimes a difficult one. We were very different people. She did have good qualities. I don't want you to think she was a horrible person, because she wasn't. But for the most part, her self-absorption and general negativity was a constant source of angst for me. How my father, who was the exact opposite, managed to stay happily married to her for 51 years has always totally puzzled me.

For many years I spent Mother's Day shopping for plants for her porch boxes and then setting them out. She was an excellent gardener when she was healthy. To be perfectly honest, that's the only thing I can think of that she genuinely enjoyed. Well, that and crossword puzzles. She was seriously good at those and complained about not being able to find any that were challenging enough to suit her. She was also an accomplished seamstress, but I think she considered sewing more of a chore than a pleasure.

She was a good country cook and hosted most of the dinners for her side of the family. But in spite of always doing it, she rather resented it and in later years complained about everyone piling in on her all the time. I think this is a great example of her general attitude. She could take any event and find a way to turn it into a burden of sorts. She loved feeling put upon because that meant it was all about her. No matter what the situation, there was always something wrong, some reason for her not to enjoy it.

Her mood worsened during my dad's final illness and after his death. She turned herself into a professional widow. Life wasn't worth living. There were moments when she seemingly forgot she was supposed to be depressed, and we would have a good day together. Then she'd revert to doom and gloom again. It was extremely tiresome.

The last couple of years her health deteriorated to the point where she legitimately had something to be depressed about. Her decline was far more prolonged than any of us wish for, for ourselves or anyone we love. Her mind was also deteriorating, making her moods more pronounced and causing her a lot of worry and fear. Her life became a burden to her.

Death isn't always an enemy. In my mother's case, it released her from physical pain and severe depression. So, no I didn't actually want her to die, but I didn't want her to live in that condition, either. When there is no hope for improvement and a return to independence, then death can be a friend. It was so in her case.

Today I'm going to plant flowers at my own house in her memory. It seems like a good way to acknowledge the day.

That's a beautiful and honest tribute. Thank you for sharing.

Hypatia, how lovely that you can talk freely about her without rancour. I had a similar relationship with my mother. I never felt I got to know her, but maybe she was drifting in to dementia for many years before we fully realised it.

I finally faced looking at all the sympathy cards sent after my other half died in 2010. It has taken that long to face them, and it was heartwarming to read all the kind words from his friends and mine.

It was one of the few 'blocks' I have had, as I feel the same as you, I rarely think of myself as a widow or a pensioner come to that, except when I have forms to fill in.

I have just typed up a poem a friend gave me at the time and it is good and reflects my feelings. We can't wish a sick person a longer life just because we don't want to lose them. If we could have the original healthy happy person back that would be different.

I think your way of remembering and honouring her is lovely.



Websailor

Nice one, Hyp, my luv. Great tribute, with many textures, shades of emotion. I wonder how you feel after writing it? Satisfied I hope, great writing, a painterly piece.

Talking of which, I hope you're still creating your wonderful botanical paintings?

Thanks, guys. I very nearly didn't say anything about the day at all because I knew I couldn't wax poetic about what a wonderful mother she was and what am I going to do without her and all the other things we're expected to feel and say when we lose someone close to us.

Drawing and painting is one of those things I want to get back to when I retire. I haven't had the time for it for a while now.

I don't think anyone should make false comments about a lost loved one and your honest appraisal was all the more poignant and dignified for it.

Websailor