For some reason as I was having my shower this morning, I found myself thinking about other Sundays from eons ago. You know, the ones where you have a lie in, get up at some ridiculous hour, have a long relaxing soak in the bath with the radio and a good book, and by the time you surface, a full roast dinner is miraculously on the table with no effort whatsoever on your part.
It got me thinking of how much I took for granted as a teenager, and the fact that Mum hardly ever had a lie in!
Photo: in Mum’s kitchen in the 80s
Even if I was up early (read around 11 am), Mum would be busy in the kitchen making pastry for apple pie, the joint would be on and the spuds in, veg all prepared and she had this fantastic flat bake tin that made the most fabulous gravy from the juices of the meat, a little cornflour, gravy browning and the water from the veg. Of course, it wasn’t the tin that made the gravy, but the love Mum put in when she made it. Come to think of it, gravy was probably one of the first things I learned to ‘cook’ other than fried eggs on fried bread. Yum.
When Mum came up to stay we would let her lie in as long as she wanted. It was such a long journey for her on the coach, and that first night would see her sleep for at least 12 hours. We never used to do very much, just walk the dog, go shopping perhaps and she came to the monthly ladies group meeting. We took her to the BBMF, the woods, a chinese buffet (she tried everything), Boston Stump and the Pilgrim Memorial. If we go to Boston now, we will light a candle in The Stump for her and the Dads.
At my sister’s, there were times when Mum didn’t want to get up, so she was left to stay in bed all day. On one visit, I went upstairs and called Mum a lazy cow and to shift her arse.
Readers will know I loved her very much, so you can read the full story here.
Our last visit saw Mum in bed at the home as she wasn’t well. She was asleep for most of the time I was there apart from a few seconds when she opened her eyes, focused, and I hope realised I was actually there holding her hand and she wasn’t dreaming.
We spoke several times on the phone after that and of course I continued to write.
I said my final goodbyes the morning of the funeral. Mum looked comfortable and peaceful, but so very thin. She and Dad can have all the lie ins they want now. ❤ ❤
Lovely post. Your love for your mum coming through your words. Beautiful.
I miss her and my Dad who died in 1996. I am comfortable with the thought they are together again.
We miss our loved ones no matter how long since they have passed on.
Always with me.
What a wonderful reflective post as you thought on Sunday’s past Di, and with fond memories of your Mum… Yes we often look back in appreciation and are thankful for the memories we created to hold close in our hearts..
Wishing you a Peaceful Sunday and a wonderful Sunday Lunch.. ❤
Thanks Sue. You too.
🙂
Aw this is a lovely post. 🙂
I know exactly what you mean, because it was the same for me and my siblings. My mum cooked amazing full course meals. We certainly took her for granted when we were younger, but hopefully came to realise all she did for us when we grew up.
Thanks Sci. So many wonderful memories of Mum’s cooking before and after we left the parental nest.
As a student I would go home every 3rd weekend – and Eat! 😀 My Mum was only too happy to feed me! 🙂
I remember staying with ‘friends’ over the Easter holidays and it was dreadful. We went to Mum’s for breakfast, and poached eggs on toast have never tasted so good! We went there for dinner too, telling our hosts we were going home.
This was the saga https://pensitivity101.wordpress.com/2014/11/29/eggs-have-never-tasted-so-good/
Yeah nothing like home cooking. 🙂
Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
thanks for the reblog.