A Letter to My Mother
Dear Mum,
Every year, when the strawberries ripen, I think of you holding my hand and taking me strawberry picking.
I remember the sweet smell of the fruit, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and your soft voice as we wandered between the rows of strawberry plants. They are among my happiest memories, and somehow every year, these thoughts find their way back to me.
I often find myself wondering what you would make of my life now.
Would you be proud of the woman I have become?
Would you laugh at some of the decisions I have made, shake your head at others, and tell me, as only a mother can, that I've done okay?
I miss you every single day.
I was only fourteen when I lost you. I went to bed as one person and woke to a world that had shifted forever. A world where I felt frightened, lost and terribly alone.
I was never quite the same again.
Part of me followed you that night.
I realise now that I never really had the chance to say goodbye. To tell you how proud I was to call you my mum, how grateful I was for the love you gave me, and just how deeply I loved you.
But I know you knew.
Life has a remarkable way of asking us to keep moving forward, even when our hearts would rather stand still.
Slowly, and reluctantly, I emerged from the cocoon I had wrapped around myself. Little by little, I allowed my wings to unfold.
I knew I couldn't change what had happened.
But I could choose how I lived because of it.
I wanted to make you proud.
I wanted to build a life that wasn't ruled by fear or held back by other people's expectations.
So I chose to embrace opportunities, to love deeply, travel widely, learn constantly, create passionately and help others wherever I could.
Perhaps this is how I have kept you alive.
Whenever I see a robin, I still stop and talk to you.
My children gently tell me not to do it in public, but they also know it brings me comfort. For just a moment, you're still with me.
"Savour the strawberries while they are ripe."
You used to say those words as we walked hand in hand through the strawberry fields.
It has taken me many years to truly understand what you meant.
You weren't just talking about strawberries.
You were talking about life.
You were reminding me not to rush through the ordinary moments. To savour the sunshine. To laugh until my sides hurt. To tell people I love them. To immerse myself in nature. To make memories with the people who matter the most to me. To appreciate a perfectly ripe strawberry before the season quietly slips away.
Life is made up of these seemingly ordinary moments.
The trouble is, we rarely realise how extraordinary they are until they become memories.
Losing you taught me that.
So today, I simply want to say thank you.
Thank you for the precious fourteen years we shared.
Thank you for the values you quietly instilled in me.
Thank you for giving me the courage to keep going, even when I thought I couldn't.
Most importantly, I hope you are proud of the life I have built.
I will always miss you.
But I know you are still with me.
In the robins that visit my garden.
In the memories that still make me smile.
And in the strawberries I now grow for my own children and grandchildren.
With all my love,
Paula xxx
If this letter has reminded you of someone you love, perhaps you could make a memory with them this week. Pick the strawberries. Take the walk. Make the phone call. Say the words.
One small step at a time. Stay Tenacious.