Dear mum,
yes I do feel better now that I got some of that off my chest.

Life is too short to stay angry for long,
though anger is sometimes warranted.
Sometimes compassion isn’t enough to motivate change
but it makes a good counterbalance.

Dear mum,
I miss the warmth of your skin,
of your heart,
of your eyes when you smiled
and how you couldn’t keep them open when you laughed.

I miss the way dad saying, Patricia, don’t encourage her!
only made you laugh harder.
I’m still like that,
the performer you encouraged,
the clever class clown who hides behind humour
when she doesn’t know exactly what to say.
A goddess of the goofy and the giddy,
a barefoot weirdo who learned the merit of mirth
from the both of you.
I remember when you told me,
he made me laugh more than he made me cry and that’s no small thing.
I think I get it now.

I’m learning that my role,
whatever it might be in the moment,
isn’t just inclusive,
it’s intrinsic.
I’m learning to lean into the uncomfortable places,
because there are lessons to be found
in what sometimes feels like wasted potential,
and that seeds which don’t sprout as expected
can still offer lessons in growth.

Thank you for teaching me the art of letting go,
when you let me go
to make mistakes,
to trip and fall,
to find my way through heartache and hellscapes
armed only with a heart filled to bursting,
which was never a weapon
as much as it was an opportunity to show strength.

I’m learning to acknowledge that I need more than I’m willing to admit
and I’m learning how to navigate asking for help.
Thank you for teaching me that there is grace in the asking,
as much as in the giving.

Dear mum,
Happy mother’s day.
I miss you always.