I’d like to tell you about one of the strongest women I’ve ever met in my entire life and what she means to me. I’ve fought with her, cried with her, leaned on her, derided her, ignored her, envied her and loved her more than any other human being on this planet.
She’s seen me at my worst and vice a versa as well as at my best and I her. I’ve taken her for granted and be grateful to her all at the same time. Loved and hated with equal passion and I’m sure the reverse is true.
She see’s me, an uncomfortable experience for a person who prefers to present an image of my making to the world but then again I guess we are equal in that I see her far too clearly I am sure for her liking at times.
She helped make me and yet over time I think it is fair to say that we had a hand in making each other who are today, the good, the bad and the indifferent; yet you know I’m not at all sure I would change that if I could.
She was the rock on which I leant, the wall against which I railed and presence I fled and yet returned to again and again.
She pushed me at times and pulled me at others and yet without telling me who or what to be be she shaped the person I would eventually become. She sharpened the mind she had given me into a weapon and the words I learnt as a child into my sword.
She never told me what to write only hinted that it should come from within me and the words should reflect not just the person I wished to be but the world in which I wished to live.
When I broke she waited for me to realise that only I could make myself whole, only I could decide who I wished to be and when I healed she cheered.
She raised no armchair intellectual content to discuss the finer ethics of social morality [although from time to time it is fun]. She championed my choice to leave the commercial world and fight where the only pay I would have is the knowledge that I wake up everyday believing in what I do.
So I have no money for expensive gifts, no trite words of the Hallmark variety but I do have the gift or recognition of all that she gave and the knowledge that it also came with things she lost to be who she was to me.
I can think of nothing else of value than to recognise the many gifts given to me by my Mother, Beryce Ann Nelson, on this mothers day and only hope that she has always understood that even when I raged and railed at her she has always had my love and respect.