Nelli

Yesterday I farewelled my Mum. She flew up with me last week to help me start my new adventure and yesterday, happy , relaxed and rested, she flew home.

Now my Mum has always been the strong woman, the tower of strength when things go wrong. She takes it all on her ample shoulders and we're happy to put it there. Yesterday, as I watched her walk up the stairs of the aircraft with her walking stick, hesitate at the top of the stairs while the flight attendant came to her assistance - she looked so vulnerable and fragile. I wanted to run out onto the tarmac and take her in my arms and hug her hard. I have never felt like that before. Even now typing these words I am getting teary.

The week we spent together was very uneventful. Short walks to the shops, afternoons reading and resting, time spent in the garden looking at ways to improve it and meals taken at the little outdoor table. No deep and meaningfuls, no delving into our past to sort out issues (and there are issues) - just casual, comfortable time in each other's company.

I felt a wrench as I watched her walk to the plane. But even now I would find it hard to call her and say those three little words that I say so openly and frequently to my own adult children ..... "I love you". I have never told my mother that I love her.

And I do. Yes - she drives me crazy, she still treats me like a child, she still tries to mother me ...... but I still love her. And I love her for doing all those things. It's what makes her my Mum.

Too many of my dear friends have lost their mothers in the past few months and I don't want to join them. Not yet. I know one day I will, but not now. I'm not ready.

First ..... I have to tell her that I love her.