I vowed never to be like you – not in a million years. All those times you had hurt me – I vowed never to be like that. Although you are gone now, in my heart you are here. Each time I open my mouth, I swear I hear an echo from the past. A copy of you I have become sorely, mother dear.
I left home all those years ago to get away from you as we never got along together. No one I associated with could please you old dear. I promise myself that I would allow my children the freedom you denied me.
Looking back now, how easy it had all appeared. I often wondered what your problem was, never suspecting I was the one with the chip on my shoulder. I wear your shoes now and how hard it all seems. At least you had my father to support your needs.
I choose to do it your way for I know now what I never knew then. You were special always there when I really needed you. As I lay the flowers on your grave and repent, I know now you had really cared. You would have been proud of me on this cold and chilly day. Your heart would have warmed to all I have done and accomplished.
All this was possible because you had pushed me along the way. At the time I had hated it and now I can see that the tough love made me the survivor I am today. Thank you mum – this is your day. Although you told me to, I cannot walk away.
I have become you now my dear walking, talking, even the woman who stares back at me in the mirror. It’s all you. How did I get this way? The reflection is harsh and the hands I see are as thin as yours could have ever been. They work quickly doing the things I use to see.
Always remaining curious how you could handle so many things at the same time. You were much like superwoman. Oh, how you would have been proud right now if you could see the replica of yourself hurried in your work. Everything must be done just right. That smug look on your face – well you’re not around now. I wish you were here.
Beyond the grave, you have control. But it’s okay, it was meant to be. I smile at my reflection as if I am smiling at you. We both know the truth. Then I hear my daughter say;
“You’re a horrible mum because you don’t care… I will never be horrible to my kids like you are to me.”
I smile as I hear those familiar childish words almost an echo from my past – my words to my mum all those years ago.
“Yes you will, my dear,” I answer in my head. “You may not like it the way I treat you, but you know what – you’ll know later that I care.”
From my response, I know for sure that I have become you mother dear.
By Ms April Showers