Mum, you were farking MAGNIFICENT
Just out from Mother's Day, some amazing words on loss.
Mother’s Day.
It stirs up different emotions for all of us.
My own Mum is comparatively young at 68, but I know many of my friends who have more elderly or sick mothers. Some have absent mothers. Many have difficult mothers.
On Mother’s Day my mind often turns to those people who have lost their Mum’s (I know a few of you reading this have had this recently).
My friend Jules lost his Mum yesterday after a long battle with Dementia. I did some project work for Dementia Australia a couple of years ago and found the experience both heartbreaking and rewarding.
The number of people living with Dementia is increasing and sadly, many younger people are being diagnosed with early-onset Dementia. Yet there is hope and resilience in them, their carers and families - despite the difficult truth that there is yet no cure.
Because I found his words so heartwarming and full of love, I thought I’d share them with you today.
Vale Judy.
Written by Jules and posted on Instagram yesterday.
“We lost Mum today.
A force of kindness unlike anyone I’ve known.
She over-delivered in every dimension: wife, mother, sister, daughter, aunt, niece, grandmother, mother-in-law, god mother, surrogate mum, and friend. And those close to her know how extraordinarily large each of those roles were.
Mum’s generosity knew no bounds. It showed up in a thousand ways - hosting the warmth and endless food, doing anything to make you laugh (especially if you were a a kid), or sensing hurt from afar - even pre-empting it. She took people in as her own. She cared for the dying without invitation.
Mum was so much FUN. She loved mischief - especially in cheeky kids.
In her final years, Dementia took almost everything… except her sent of humour. You only knew she was listening when someone dropped a dark gag - and she burst out laughing.
Her sister Margot recently wrote: “Judy. Wicked but never cruel.” Mum once filled Dad’s sandwiches with cat food.
As a boy, I couldn’t believe I had a movie star as a Mum. She radiated beauty.
As an adult, I watched her illuminate the lives of my wife and daughters with a love she’d perfected.
Her final gift: bringing my Dad and siblings even closer. I’ve never been prouder watching them fill her final years with devotion.
Mum…
Thank you for bringing out the best in everyone. Even your plants, who I once overheard you gently coaching.
75 years, and taken too soon. Yet you had the impact of many.
I still can’t believe that I got to have you as my Mum.
You were farking MAGNIFICIENT.
Time to soar.
❤️ “
See you in the morning,
Wade