Memories of my mum

MEMORIES OF MY MOTHER

By Judith Joyce

CARING is love and doing things for others

Many people believe that nothing compares to a mother's love.  A mother's love is selfless and never ending.  It can endure all the trials that life throws its way.  It is the kind of love that often times gets overlooked because it comes so naturally and does not demand attention from those they care for.

This was my mum.

 I came from a large family with a lot of mouths to feed there was never enough money to go around so my mother had to work

At first because I was too young to go to school mum had to take me with her because she couldn’t afford to pay anyone to look after me. 

She worked as a domestic for different rich people around the area we lived, working hard all day cooking, washing and cleaning and then she would have to come home and care for her own family doing the same domestic work well into the night.

Not only did she have her own eight children to look after but she also cared for my dad’s youngest brother who was confined to a wheel chair and was mentally impaired.

Mum was a very good cook and we always had plenty of food, not fancy but always very tasty. Most of the fruit and veggies came from our garden that dad took care of. My dad also his own chock and ducks. We also ate baked rabbit which dad either caught or mum brought for six pence each. Sometimes we even had kangaroo.

Every Saturday we would have mums specialty pikelets with Honey or Lemon and sugar on them. She would keep cooking them till we all had enough. I do not remember her sitting down and eating any herself at least not until we had all finished.

Sunday lunches we always had a baked dinner which was always roast Hogget (lamb was too expensive) But the way mum cooked it, it was as tender as lamb.

For tea on Sunday night we would always have Mum’s famous Scones followed by home cooked fruit topped with homemade ice-cream or custard.

Even though money was tight birthdays always meant a party with enough food to feed an army, all made with mums loving hands.  

Christmas meant another feast. Mum always beat us kids out of bed on Christmas morning (around 5am) to make the Christmas pudding which was so big it took hours to boil. And what a lovely pudding it was.

 She would not stop working on Christmas morning till the lovely dinner was all served up on the plates of the crowd of people that came for lunch and that included her children, my nanna’s and granddad, aunts uncles and later her children’s spouses and the grand children.

Almost every thing we had for the festive season was either made or grown by mum or dad.

Lots of our gifts were also hand made, cloths, aprons knitted jumpers, scarfs, hats  and crochet  rugs were loving made by mum and wooden toy, stools, cases and a lot more were made by dad.

Mum made all the families cloths so well that some were even passed from the oldest to the youngest, and being the third youngest I sometimes longed for something new or shop brought.

If I wanted a costume for a fancy dress ball mum always came up with something different every time and often her design won a prize.

I remember when I took a Main part in “The Gondoliers” and when the costume hire people let the school down the mums were asked to fill in. My mum had only a few days to make a full satin costume with a wig and all the trimmings for a king and she never complained she just went ahead and did a grand job.  

Even after I left home my mother still showed how much she cared. I was by myself and didn’t have much money and mum & dad would come to visit laden down with boxes of food and other goodies so I wouldn’t starve to death. If I wanted to visit my parents  Mum would always insist in coming to pick me up and take me home to save me money although it would have cost them a lot in petrol for sometime I lived a long way from home.

Even when mum was sitting down she would be doing something. She would be knitting sewing or crocheting or doing, other handcrafts, most of the things she made were not for herself but for others.

Every Child, Grandchild & even some of the great grandchildren have a beautiful crochet rug made by my mother loving hands, some of them taking her months to finish.

Mine I will treasure always along with all the cloth she knitted for my children which I still have. 

My Mum worked very hard for her family for many years of her life. She did washing, ironing, cleaning, cooking, shopping and sewing and many other thing that we never knew about and without much help, never complaining just doing what she knew she had to do.

 And if this is not caring I do not know what is.

 My dear mum is gone now and I miss very much. I thank her for all that she taught me and for the care she showed me.

I love you mum.