By Gerry Murray. 09-05-2021
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"If love is as sweet as a flower, then my mother is that sweet flower of love." ~ Stevie Wonder
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Between March and May in various parts of the world people celebrate Mother's Day.
This weekend my mother will turn 82. So, Saturday 8th May will be my Mother's Day and I'd like to take a few moments to celebrate her in this post as I will not be able to celebrate with her in person.
Being born at the start of World War II her early life, like so many of her generation, was hard. Maybe this shaped her perspective on life and gave her what I could only describe as remarkable resilience. I've hardly ever heard her complain and she rarely has a bad word to say about anyone. She connects easily with people from all walks of life and everyone loves and respects her, especially for her integrity and willingness to support others in need. This includes her devotion to my father who had a stroke 3 years ago and is slightly incapacitated.
Although my parents got a "tablet" at Christmas and we've since been able to see each other on screens, I miss being simply able to be in her company. It's been nearly 2 years since we were able to be in the same room together.
I know that many of you reading this, particularly if you live outside of your native country, have also experienced this and perhaps share this feeling.
And, for others, your mother may no longer be with you. I hope you keep fond memories of her.
I also recognise that some people may not have had a positive experience of having a mother figure in their life.
Maybe, some of you are mothers or (like me) have partners who are wonderful mothers!
I end by quoting a verse of a poem that was written in Cork in the latter half of the 19th century at a time when emigration was prevalent in Irish society. It became a song that Irish exiles would regularly sing:
A mother's love is a blessing,
No matter where you roam.
Keep her while she's living,
You'll miss her when she's gone.
Love her as in childhood,
When feeble, old and grey,
For you'll never miss a mother's love
'til she's buried beneath the clay.
Thomas Peter Keenan (1866–1927)
If you can, maybe give your mother a call today and tell her how much she matters to you...
"I do what I want, when I want, where I want...if my mom says it's ok."
The school phoned me today and said, "Your son has been telling lies."
I said, "Tell him, he's bloody good. I don't have any kids”
Your mother and I love you very much, and we miss you dearly ever since you went to prison. I especially miss you now that spring is here, and it is time to plough the fields. The ground is hard, and my back is old. I am afraid I will never be able to plant the crops in time.
Your loving father
Do not dig in the field. That is where I hid that thing. You know I can not say what it is because they read our mail. Just do not dig out there.
The cops came out and dug up my fields. They said they were looking for something. Thanks, son. It looks like I will get the crops planted.
Your loving and grateful father