My Tribute to Mum

It’s strange how in life it is often the most precious things that we take for granted. Reflecting back I realise that for much of the time I took Mum for granted. She looked after us as a family – the meals were always there, the washing was always done, etc. In many ways you could say that there was nothing special about Mum – she wasn’t famous, she hadn’t written a book, she wasn’t a well-known musician although she could play the piano quite adequately, but in another sense she was very special. She was always there for us. Even after we left home. She was always there. I have wondered why I wasn’t particularly aware of that at the time? I think it was because … she was always there for us!

And Mum didn’t always have it easy – she’d had health problems before, and there was the loss of my dear brother Ian when he was fifteen. I don’t think having four children under the age of five makes for an easy life. But she looked after us with loving devotion and sacrifice. She would take us out almost as a mini-school party to walk down into the town centre in Rickmansworth to do some shopping – it must have been a major expedition, but she took it all in her stride. I remember an outing to London Zoo using the trains. If you know Regent’s Park you will know that it is a bit of a trek from the nearest station, but she marshalled us on her own (and we had a great time).

Mum loved her gardening. But she allowed us to play all sorts of games on the lawn – football (in studs), cricket (stumps in the ground and hard cricket ball that one day off a 10 yard run up bounced clean through the kitchen window – fortunately it was open!), even badminton on a court marked by string pegged into the ground. But woe betide you if she caught you treading on the flower bed to get the ball back! She even tried to encourage us to follow in her footsteps by letting us have a small flower bed each to plant and care for. Vain hope for me, I cultivated the weeds better than the flowers! Not much has changed.

Mum followed in her father’s footsteps – while Dad struggled with wallpapering, she took to it like a duck to water, and did much of our decorating herself.

In all of this you detect her strength and determination. A strength that was evident in her last few days as she kept on going even while in a coma. A determination that meant she would see her son in a blue wig and dress in the church panto even though she came against all the odds (videos are on sale for an extortionate price). A determination that meant she almost did see Christmas in.

But there was another side to mum that she didn’t flaunt. That was a quiet but strong faith in Jesus. It was because of Mum and Dad that I gave my life to Jesus – the best thing that I have ever done in my life. In one sense she wasn’t overly demonstrative in her faith, and I think people were sometimes surprised when they saw just how deeply she held her beliefs. Beliefs that were evident in her love for people, and especially in her hospitality – all the meals she would prepare for YFC meetings at home. Visitors would often comment on the fact that there was always a choice of desserts!

I remember sitting with Dad in a communion service shortly after Mum’s passing away. I was in tears. But I remember thinking how frugal and paltry bread and grape juice seemed, and how much it said about our lives here on earth. But what struck me was that it was because of Jesus’ death, as represented by bread and wine, that Mum is now enjoying a fantastic feast in heaven, with tables filled to overflowing, and with the most wonderful company – and I look forward to seeing her again.

One final story that says something about Mum. Mum taught me how to knit. Well I could manage plain stitch anyway, I had more problems with pearl. I did manage to knit a soft toy kangaroo which we put into the junior school fete on one of the stalls to sell. When we got back home Mum said “Guess what I bought at the fete?”, and then produced the very kangaroo I had knitted. She didn’t want me to feel that no-one had bought the produce of my efforts, so she bought it herself. I can’t remember how I reacted at the time, but I do think it says something about how Mum looked out for us and how much she cared. I will miss her tremendously, but my life is all the richer for he love and her care.