Visited my mum yesterday for Mother's Day. My three children trooped in with their pots of primulas - red, purple and yellow. Magical moments. I had got up early and baked her a cake. She has lost much of her appetite so wanted to tempt her. The cake has raspberries and almonds it in it, two of her favourites. Could see that she knew how much love had gone into the baking of the cake.
She was on top form mentally as for the first time in decades, she had cards from all three of her children plus flowers from the black sheep of the family. The black sheep is the one she loves with a deep passion, her first born son.
She marched me into the lounge whilst my brother entertained the children. She has been offered chemotherapy. She talked and I realised she was asking my permission to say no. She declared herself bored with cancer talk and wanting to just live what she has left. She had the same talk with my oldest brother on the telephone later. Maybe she is just ready for a rest.
It amazes me how easy it is when I am with her. We laugh, we tease, we live. Conversations about the persecution of the Jews throughout the ages, neighbourliness and all manner of things.
She remains concerned for a sick 3 year old in her town. She does not know him but wants to help. Triggers a thought that the whole family should get as involved as we can in raising funds for this little boy.
She gives my children a recorder each, a pinky/purpley one for my little girl. She found them "just waiting for me as if it were meant to be". Makes me laugh. This is the same philosophy that led to her adopting me. Husband rolls his eyes - she has always loved winding him up with the noisiest of toys.
I leave it as late as I realistically can before leaving. Stopping for petrol on the way home, the tears start up again. Why is she so hard to leave? I want the party to go on for ever.
Just before I left, she told me the roses I got her for Valentine's Day "lasted for ages". It was a whim at the time to give her them but how glad I am that I followed it. Probably her last Valentine's and Mother's Day. What will I write about her this time next year?