From Mother to Child … and back again.
I found this following diary entry hard to put out there (but I finally decided to do so) as I remember so acutely how it was to be sitting with my 2 year old, and feel so much more of a child than her. Very vulnerable, but somehow grasping how connected we were – are – through my mother and her absence.
Nowruz mobarak! Diary Entry 20.3.2007
Dear Mama,
It was your birthday yesterday and today is the eve of Nowruz (Persian New Year), your absolute favourite time of year. I have made a Haft Seen in the corner of the front room, using your red and gold cloth and the silver dishes with the seven ‘seen’ things – except I cheated a bit, it’s got an English bent to it which you would probably smile at. My Nanny and Aunt spent the day here, I needed that female family connection to get me through – four generations in the front room, and it felt good and safe somehow.
It’s been a triple one because Sunday, the day before your birthday, was also Mothers Day. I sat having breakfast with Delia and found myself weeping. She looked at me, your two year old grand-daughter, and asked for a hug. Then she sat stroking my face and kissing me as I explained why I was so sad and how you were in the sea now. ‘It’s ok mummy, it’s alright’ were the healing words she spoke, amazing how it lightened things up. Feels right to be honest with her, and authentic about my grief when it arises. Later on she looked at me and asked ‘Your mummy?’ as if to say, are you ok about your mummy now? Children know everything. Happy New Year Mama.
