Incredibly moving, Emma. She sounds amazing, but not a comfortable person to have as a mother. I wonder how many of our mothers of that generation had that feeling of being unfulfilled in themselves, and what effect that had on their relationships with us, their daughters? And her letters from the Iranian embassy are magnificent and deserve a wider audience.
Thanks Anna. Yes. This whole topic is a really interesting one. I think whilst my mother may have felt that her potential was unfulfilled in some way, I think she also found her life with my father fulfilling and very stimulating in many ways. It’s a long conversation!
It's very hard for me to write 'a comment' on the letters to Mum and Dad because they were my Mum and Dad too. However hard I try, I can't separate out your experience from mine even though I know our experiences were different. My responses are too big and inchoate for a comment box. But yes, one thing I know for sure is that we were fiercely loved and we loved them back. I also know for sure that you were a good daughter to Mum in those sad difficult years at the end (when yes, duty had to step in and give love some support). She was so lucky to have you always, but especially then. And I am brimful of gratitude for the burden you took on in her final years and carried with such strength.
This piece moved me to tears not only because I knew that prickly yet protective mother of yours. One sentence struck me fiercely because it describes the unenviable cycle of life. She used to drop you off at boarding schools where you sank into the abyss of lovelessness and you were now dropping her off at her nursing home to sink into the abyss of hopelessness. A huge sadness in these moments that cannot be undone.
Both parts of your letter have been so revealing and thought-provoking, Emma. I think your parents would be proud of your writing.
I've occasionally had dreams of being angry with my mother (sometimes with my father), but mostly I still dream of both my parents in a "What would you make of this?" kind of way. Not so much seeking their approval, but just knowing that their values and characters still affect me though they are gone. They still count.
Such a lovely, thought provoking letter, Emma. And lovely to hear you read it as if talking to your mother. I often wish I’d known what I know now about being old, and generally having that distance to see one’s very much loved mother more objectively, and been able to talk to her as a friend. To write her a letter as yours is an inspiring idea.
Incredibly moving, Emma. She sounds amazing, but not a comfortable person to have as a mother. I wonder how many of our mothers of that generation had that feeling of being unfulfilled in themselves, and what effect that had on their relationships with us, their daughters? And her letters from the Iranian embassy are magnificent and deserve a wider audience.
Thanks Anna. Yes. This whole topic is a really interesting one. I think whilst my mother may have felt that her potential was unfulfilled in some way, I think she also found her life with my father fulfilling and very stimulating in many ways. It’s a long conversation!
It's very hard for me to write 'a comment' on the letters to Mum and Dad because they were my Mum and Dad too. However hard I try, I can't separate out your experience from mine even though I know our experiences were different. My responses are too big and inchoate for a comment box. But yes, one thing I know for sure is that we were fiercely loved and we loved them back. I also know for sure that you were a good daughter to Mum in those sad difficult years at the end (when yes, duty had to step in and give love some support). She was so lucky to have you always, but especially then. And I am brimful of gratitude for the burden you took on in her final years and carried with such strength.
Xxxxxxx
Your best yet. How very open and honest. Well done.
Thank you, Hugh! It's been very nice knowing you're one of the readers.
This piece moved me to tears not only because I knew that prickly yet protective mother of yours. One sentence struck me fiercely because it describes the unenviable cycle of life. She used to drop you off at boarding schools where you sank into the abyss of lovelessness and you were now dropping her off at her nursing home to sink into the abyss of hopelessness. A huge sadness in these moments that cannot be undone.
Oh Debby. Thank you. You knew her so well. And I will never forget your wonderful mother. She was the mum of mums.
Both parts of your letter have been so revealing and thought-provoking, Emma. I think your parents would be proud of your writing.
I've occasionally had dreams of being angry with my mother (sometimes with my father), but mostly I still dream of both my parents in a "What would you make of this?" kind of way. Not so much seeking their approval, but just knowing that their values and characters still affect me though they are gone. They still count.
Thank you, Wendy. That's so true. They still count. Nice to know it's the same for you.
Such a lovely, thought provoking letter, Emma. And lovely to hear you read it as if talking to your mother. I often wish I’d known what I know now about being old, and generally having that distance to see one’s very much loved mother more objectively, and been able to talk to her as a friend. To write her a letter as yours is an inspiring idea.
What a lovely comment, Helen. Thank you. Do you think there's a chance that we are beginning to become wise?
Honesty and love.....
Yes. There's so much in those two words. Thank you, Helen.