I don't know what it's like to be a mother, nor will I ever know.

But I do know what it's like to have a mother. And I'm grateful for that. My mum and I haven't always seen eye to eye. I grew up with foster parents and didn't live with her from age 1- 8...so we missed quite a bit of bonding time. I guess we've been trying to catch up/ make up for lost time ever since. Not always easy, especially when we don't live on the same continent. So I try to phone her each day. First thing in the morning, I make coffee and phone mum to keep her memory alive. I miss her. Somehow I've missed her all my life. I don't know...there are some feelings for which there are no adequate words.

My mother once told me...

“Men are like Melbourne trams…if you miss one, the next one comes along in five minutes.”

Yup, occasionally she digs up gold :)

Even so...

Having endured a couple of spectacularly failed relationships, my mum has lived alone for the most part of her life.  She lives the life of a hermit. I know it hasn't been easy for her, though I guess over the years she's gotten used to it. These days she'd rather spend her time tending her potted balcony garden, or feeding a family of pigeons she's grown to love - because the feeling's mutual.  

I admire my mother’s character, her originality, her strengths and her weaknesses.

Often, she puts up a front and pretends to be thick skinned, like the time she arrived in Austria, an eighteen year old immigrant from Montenegro.  It was snowing heavily but she only had a pair of summer sandals on her feet because there was no money to buy winter shoes. Her pride and feet frozen to a point of no return, she pretended not to notice people laughing and staring.  She pretended not to care.

Ironically, she’s managed to miss all the trams. They simply passed her by. Numbed by disappointment and fear, she has waited (romantic) love out of existence. 

Happy mother's day mum.

I love you