Let Me Tell You About My Mum

... and my sister becoming a mum. Two (not sure what to call them?) micro-essays/vignettes in honour of Mother's Day.

I’ve had scraps of writing in my Google Docs trying to express how I feel about my dear Mum for a while now. A couple of months ago I wrote a little poem about my Dad that came to me just like that, and so I was determined to make it fair for Mother’s Day and write something for Mum. I made it in time! And Mum lit up when she saw that I had written something for her. If that’s not the goal for my writing, I don’t know what is. It’s not quite a poem, I think. More of a micro-essay, or series of vignettes. Which just goes to show that I have many feelings about what my Mum means to me.

(Side note: I was looking for a photo of my Mum and me and was quite horrified that I had to look aaaallll the way back to 2021 to find one. Challenge accepted. Time for another selfie with Mum.)

Let Me Tell You About My Mum

1// I am sitting at the counter, white school shirt untucked. She is standing across from me, cutting vegetables. I am prattling on about some drama that has befallen me that day. There's a twinkle in her eyes that says Oh girl, if that's your biggest problem, you're doing pretty good. And yet, she listens. 


2// It's the night before my wedding day and she hands me an envelope with a card tucked inside. I go to read it in my room. It's the most wonderful thing she's ever written to me. I run out the room, tears streaming down my face, throw my arms around her. She squeezes me back, smiling at my tears, Oh, Kym. She knows how sensitive I am, but maybe she underestimated how much those words would mean to me. 


3// I am a teary mess (again). I have left work before my day even started, stressed, tired, pregnant. I text her. She drops what she's doing, picks me up and takes me out for coffee. But of course, it's more than just the drink, it's me prattling on again and her listening again. Being mothered before becoming a mother myself. 


4// Look, here she is, showing me how to bathe my first newborn, white tub up on the kitchen counter. Look, here she is again, wrangling my toddler who is watching me bathe her baby sister on the laundry counter. And look, again, bathing all of us in meals, help and love as we welcome a third baby. 

Every time, she’s there, my hands and feet. Every time, she's there, holding her grandchild, looking at them with utter love. And then back at me. 


5// I hear the door open and close as she lets herself in. Her arms are laden with Costco mince and coffee pods and secondhand clothes and empty eggs cartons. 

She empties her arms and fills them with me, a kiss planted on my cheek. The next person to receive a hug is whatever grandchild is also there, at my feet. 

She helps me with the laundry, gives me some gardening tips, tidies up with me, plays with her grandchild, chats to me and listens. 

She leaves with a full carton of eggs. Barely a repayment for all she's done.
And she'll be back within the next fortnight. 
 

6// I am a child, ten or fifteen. I am frustrated and write down all the ways I don't want to be like my mum. 

Oh, how small-minded. 


7// I am a mum myself. I write down all the ways I want to be like my mum.

Please Lord, make me a good listener, like Mum. Help me grow my garden, love my family well, be willing to drop what I want to do to go help others, like Mum. 

Make me strong and selfless and humble.
Just like Mum. 

A couple of months ago, my sister gave birth to a little boy. He is the first nephew/niece on my side of the family, since I’m the only one that has given grandchildren to my parents so far. And wow, I had a lot of feelings then too. There is something extra special about seeing your own sister become a mother. And there’s the bitter-sweetness of watching from afar. That, too, came out more as a micro-essay, rather then a poem.

I Am Watching My Sister Become A Mother

1// Her belly swelling and her heart growing bigger with love for this little person. 
She calls me and asks me What will I need in hospital? / Should I use white noise straight away? / Is this container big enough to hold my placenta? 

I want to prepare her with brutal honesty.
About how much work breastfeeding is at first / And how the sleep deprivation will bring you to your knees / And how you love this little person with your whole entire being while also wondering how much more you have to give.

But I don't, I can't,
She's so excited, filled to the brim with joyful anticipation. 
It's beautiful. 


2// The phone call comes.
It's a boy! We hear her husband say. 
It was such hard work! I hear her say in the background.

I'm so proud of you, is all I can think. 

I stare at my phone screen.
There is my little sister / A tiny black haired baby on her chest / Her tired eyes filled with awe and adoration / Her arms holding him so naturally, as if she's always had him in her arms. 

How was your night? I text after their first night at home. I suspect the answer.
It was very very bad. But it's morning now and I'm trying to forget. 

Flashbacks to my own first nights as a mother.
Tears as the baby fed and cried and fed and cried / Clinging to my husband I don't know how to do this. She's so dependent on me. Only me! 
My selfish nature being wrung out to dry, asking for every last drop to be washed down the drain. 


3// The five of us jump in the car for four hours, journeying so we can all meet this new person who shares our flesh and blood.

We come with arms filled, 
Banana bread / clothing my son outgrew a year ago / gifts / cards / And so much love in our hearts.
We cuddle and dote and melt as we hold him in our arms, my sister looking on at her family loving on her son. 

If I could, I would stay for weeks instead of mere hours.

I would sit beside her as she feeds, holding her hand through that painful latch.
This will get better. You'll both get used to it. It won't always hurt like this. 

I would wake up with her during the night, rub her back, bring her tea and help her stay awake for the feed.
You can do it. You're not alone. The night feels like forever. But day is coming. 

I would hug her while she cries, overwhelmed at being this baby's all. 
You are exactly who he needs and God knew what He was doing when He made you his mother. 

I would pat my brother-in-law on the back, help him with the laundry and the cooking, so he can be there for my sister. 
You are doing such a good job looking after them both. 

I want to jump in and give her all my experience.
But I can't. 

We must all muddle through the first 
days / weeks / months / years even  
of motherhood,
finding our own way, forging our own path.
No one can do that for us or fully equip us.
No one can truly prepare us for the time when we will be asked to give our all, and then even more, to care for this soul entrusted to us. 

But I can speak truth, 
God is right there beside you in the painful latch, in the late night feeds, in the rocking and shushing / God is helping you every step of the way / This will bring you to the end of yourself but to the heart of God /  You can do this, by His strength / Look at your nephew, my son. One year changes so much and you will muddle through.

The days are long, but the years are short.
You will survive. You will thrive. 
You can do it.  

Sharing is Caring Vol. 7

If you need a fun podcast to listen to with your kids, download the ABC Kids Listen app and try out Imagine This and Noisy By Nature. You’ll learn some very interesting things about nature and it’s very child-friendly! (Disclaimer: not from a Christian Creation perspective, of course).

In honour of Mother’s Day, go ahead and read these: Before We Became Mothers // Motherhood Reps. // Soft knees // Mother's Day Poetry

Lovely, funny or interesting things I’ve read recently: The Great Denim Success // Don't let your garden go greyscale this winter // Lies I've Loved // The Walk of Shame // We Scroll to Escape Ourselves // Issue 7. ✍🏻 No One is an Island // Notes on: Stairs and Memories

Jon Guerra’s new album Jesus is STUNNING. My favourites are In the Beginning Was Love // Reckoner // Take Up Your Cross // Who is Greatest?

Other new music I’ve been dancing and singing along to: Far Country by Ellie Holcomb (such a vibe! Makes me want to jump and dance around!) // The Hill by Caylee Hammack (if you love some good ol’ country) // Under the Sun by Shay Carlucci

Thank you so much for reading! I hope Mother’s Day was a blessing to you in whatever form it took. And if you like, I’d love to know: What do you love about your Mum? If you’re a mother, how has God used it to shape you? And how has God used other mothers in your life?