Dear Mum
Dear Mum,
I don’t know that I will ever be able to fully express all that I have experienced with you during our lifetime together. What I do know is that I will be forever grateful for all that you have taught me. I will continue to love each and every part of you for as long as I live.
From when I was a little girl, I always looked up to you Mum. A strong, brave, determined, selfless and beautiful soul. Over time, the memories of our relationship become harder to recall, but the memories I hold true of us are ones of great joy, connection and love.
You took me to my first dancing class from the age of three. Little did I know that you had already provided a platform for me to express myself as a young and confident girl. After many years of dancing class, concerts and Grandma making my costumes, you encouraged me to pursue my passion for football at the age of 9. You made sure you were prepared with your ‘footy jacket’ and Millie our family dog. You would rush me from football in the morning to get me to dancing on time, just so you could see the enjoyment I had from doing both. It’s only now that I look back and understand the true significance this had and continues to have in my life.
As well as supporting me and my passion for football, you also modelled this behaviour in your own life. You were such a successful business woman, working in freight and logistics. A most certainly male dominated industry. I wish I had the time to go back and ask you more about it. You worked so incredibly hard, for your children and for yourself. Without realising you showed me what you can achieve with confidence, determination and resilience. Without even knowing, you were challenging stereotypes for women and girls. I was never made to feel like I couldn’t do something because I was a girl, I was never made to feel different or inadequate. In fact, I felt like I could do anything.
I’ll take you back to 2010, when you were diagnosed with early onset dementia. Our lives had changed forever. I can only imagine how unsettling this time was for you. I know that you were lost, confused and embarrassed. I found it so difficult to come to terms with, especially as an 18 year old girl. I felt isolated and broken-hearted.
I felt like I had lost my mum.
“I hadn’t lost you, things were just going to be very different. If I could go back and support you better during this time I would.”
I can only imagine how confronting it would’ve been for you to forget the route home while driving, to not remember how to cook us dinner or how to use the washing machine.
I remember coming into the study one day to find you staring blankly at a computer screen with the document titled “cover letter.” You were writing a cover letter to apply for a sales representative job after you had lost your job 12 months prior. I had said to you, “what are you trying to write Mum?” and you said, “customer service is...”
You were mid-sentence and just stopped. I wanted to shake you and help you get the words out, but the blank look that you gave me was complete fear and disbelief. I felt exactly the same. In that moment I suddenly felt like I was you, having to help me with my homework.
It would have been so hard for you and I’m so sorry that you had to experience it all yourself.
Our story then became a matter of me taking care of you, just like you did for me all of these years.
Almost 11 years have passed. I’m no longer an 18 year old girl, who has just finished year 12. I know that you have some memories tucked away of me as a little girl, but here are some of the things that have happened over the last 11 years.
I finished year 12 and felt like I had run a marathon. I spent my time thinking about what was going to happen next, what changes were you going to experience, would you be in pain, how quickly would this progress, were you going to remember who I was? I found myself unable to see beyond these thoughts. I had no desire or motivation for my own life, knowing that you were going to be a very different part of that. I wanted someone to give me all of the answers, but no one could. That was the most difficult part. I had to learn to accept that there aren’t always answers for everything. A lot of it was, and still is, unknown.
One thing that it did teach me was that all I can continue to do is support you in the best way I possibly can. The way that looks has changed over the years, but I am still finding new ways to connect with you each time I see you. At the beginning it was me visiting you at Grandma and Grandpa’s house to do your hair and help you to choose your clothes for the day. When you moved into a care facility it was you and I running up and down the hallway like we used to do when I was young. One thing that I’ll always remember was when Aunty came in to visit you with Eli. All of a sudden, you knew exactly what to do- how to hold a baby, how to settle him, you even put his dummy back in his mouth. To see you connect with him without any words was such a beautiful thing to see.
Each time I visit you now is so different. Sometimes you’re awake, sometimes you’re asleep. Sometimes you know who I am, sometimes you don’t. And that’s okay. It’s hard for me, but I know deep down that you would love knowing that I am there with you. I talk to you and let you know what I’ve been up to and what’s going on in the world just so you can hear my voice. Sometimes it’s just too much for me, so I sit and hold your hand and play your favourite music. I know that you think my voice is terrible, but I’ll continue to sing along to INXS and Elvis just so I can see you smile!
I still love footy. I am still playing for the same reasons that drew me to the game as a little girl. Football has always been a place for me to express myself, a place for me to feel safe and free. A place for me to find joy in sharing experiences with others. When I am playing football, I still think about you watching along and how it felt to know that I had your support. How you made me feel as a young girl will stay with me forever.
It breaks my heart that you aren’t able to celebrate my birthdays with me, to see me live my dream of playing AFL, to have been at my graduation and see me graduate as an osteopath. I one day hoped that you would see me get married and have children.
“Although we aren’t able to share these moments together, I wanted to share some of them with you and hope that you catch a glimpse of the young girl that you raised.”
Our time spent together will never be enough, but I will continue to share my life with you for as long as I can. Just know that you are with me everywhere I go.
As Grandpa would often say, “that’s life darling. It’s going to be ok.”
Sending love to those who have lost their mothers, those who don’t know their mothers, to those whose mothers don’t know them and those whose mothers are sick.
To all of the mums.
For more information please visit:
National Dementia Helpline 1800 100 500
https://www.dementia.org.au
