Tribute.

A tribute to the greatest woman to have walked the planet (no, not Marilyn Monroe).. My Mum

On this day in 1946 Sandra Ann Palmer came into the world, daughter of Florence Palmer and Ted Palmer. (that's my Nana and Grandpa!)

Blonde haired and green eyed she blossomed into a statuesque vision of beauty, and became a wife and Mother when she was 20. Possibly the best job she ever had, and the toughest.

Husbands came and went (two of them – gasp shock horror), and after I was born the last husband went (and good riddance to him my Father should never have been allowed to pro create). Mum was a single parent once again, and armed with the know how and gumption to succeed in life she worked hard and provided a beautiful home.

More than this she lead by example. She learnt valuable lessons through the years, some of them heart wrenching lessons and she carried the world on her shoulders. But through it all she survived, in fact she did more than survive, she succeeded and grew from every lesson life threw at her. And she always did this with a smile on her face (and a glass of wine in her hand!)

She taught me to be independent, never mollycoddling me or suffocating me, always letting me know where I was going wrong in life and was never shy of giving me a talking to. The closeness of our relationship whilst I was growing up in the house alone with her meant that I too, when old enough (and brave enough!) could give her the talking's to that she needed to get perspective in life. We had become firm friends. We had the respect for each other that allowed us to be honest about things, and that in turn meant we were close. Closer than I have ever known a mother and daughter be. My sister used to glare at me for how much lip I gave poor Mum, but that was how our relationship worked best for us. We took the mickey out of each other and laughed like drains about it (one of her sayings – I've never heard a drain laugh personally). When the poop hit the fan in my life (as it so often did in my early twenties) I knew that one phone call/email/text to Mum would mean that the problem was halved and she would know what I would need to do to sort myself out. I can only imagine the conversations of despair with her best friend Ann about 'What Jenny's Done Now' (hey if only she lived long enough to see me succeed in my blog 'What Jenny Did'!)

Mum always told me she thought I would be a 'late starter in life'. After going from pointless job to pointless job, struggling financially and losing a beautiful house after a relationship broke down I could only hope and pray that she would be right. Mum's always right. That's the one thing I hope with my baby on the way that I can achieve as a Mother – to pass on the wisdom of my years.

Mum was right. I am a late starter in life. It's predominantly due to her illness that I realised what my goals in life were, and partly due to my husband that I was able to achieve them. Between them both I was unstoppable in my push to get what I wanted from my life, and a huge part of me just wanted to do something, anything, that would make Mum proud of me. Give her reason to tell her friends and work colleagues that I had done something worth while.

Little did I know that she was already proud of me, and loved that I had started writing this blog – sharing it with all the young girls at work. Mum was sly like that.

I have so many fond memories of Mum that if I tried to write them all down I would be here until September next year, and it would be pages and pages long. Some of the fondest are us tinting our eyebrows and lashes, drinking wine and laughing – a lot – about how ridiculous we looked. All in the vain attempt to have thicker, bushier eyebrows (something we envied about other women – we always notice their eyebrows first!).

The way her telephone voice always used to bug the hell out of me – the same telephone voice I find myself using every day at work, funny that?

How she made the most of what sunshine we had, and would take every opportunity to lay in her sun lounger in her bikini and sunbathe. Who can blame her with a garden this beautiful.

 How she used to customise clothes to get extra wear out of them, a pair of trousers she stopped wearing in 1987 became a pair of shorts she wore until the day she became ill in 2007. Being bang on trend wasn't something that ever bothered Mum, she was however very stylish and always looked good. She had her own style. Something (I am told) I have too.

Her DIY skills were second to none. Wallpapering was a piece of pie, as was rejuvenating old furniture and styling homes. She had such a flair for it, The Style Channel was on all day long in her house, it didn't take much to inspire her though and who can forget the year of sponge painting every darn picture frame, photo frame, and light stand in the house? Thankfully that era didn't last too long!

How she loved her Music. Buddy Holly, Queen, Leonard Cohen, Classical symphonies, Gerry Rafferty, Eurythmics – she loved to bop around to it and sing. (much to the embarrassment of moi!)

How quickly she bonded with my close friends, Siba, Jo, and Emma. And how she would tell them stories that even I had never heard before!

How quickly she fell in love with my husband. (who can blame her), once he had her captivated with his (true) story telling capabilities she was caught hook line and sinker. She knew he would become my husband even before we did!

How I could go anywhere with her, and have the best time. A guaranteed laugh a minute knowing she would come out with some classic 'Mum' line that we would never let her live down.

How she taught me to plum in a washing machine, just because she could.

So she may not be remembered for being a top class lawyer, or an amazing artist, or a musician, or for her luck in love, but she was an amazing person. An amazing Mother. A true inspiration. My guiding light who kept me strong, just purely knowing that someone so wonderful existed made me feel secure that no matter what life threw at me I would be ok, because if Mum can survive all she went through then I can too.

Of all these things I look up to her for, I can only wish that my little one feels the same way about me one day.

I will always have a hug and an 'I love you' for my children, just as my Mum did for me, if I can provide nothing else then I will make sure that above all my children know just how much I adore them. No doubt I will spend most of my time as a mother feeling like I have failed them in some way, but when I think of my own Mum I remember my guiding light and I feel certain that I have all the tools I need to succeed.

I love my Mum and I know she still exists, because we keep her memory alive


xxx