Today, I went to go see my Mum. I wanted her to know I was ok and I have this whole unemployment thing under control so I did my hair up real nice, put on red lip stick (so what if it was 11am on a Tuesday) and felt good. It was totally worth it as well because I got told I was pretty by a cute boy. It doesn’t matter that this boy was my three year old nephew and immediately afterwards he pranked me with a whoopee cushion… it still counts!
Now, my nephew is the light of my life. I worship the ground his teeny little feet walk on. When I think about how much I love him and want to protect him, my heart almost explodes. And that’s just me as an Auntie. I cannot fathom how a Mother would feel about her child.
Just before I left, my Mum stopped me and handed me this:
It’s obviously a box filled with food, some of my favourite treats in fact. I said, of course, that she shouldn’t have but she said she wanted to.
I’m not the most vocal when it comes to showing affection but lately I’ve been trying to be better at telling my nearest and dearest how much I love them. My Mum is the opposite. She lives for her family and is sure to let us all know how much we mean to her. The fact my Mum did such a thoughtful unspoken gesture of love meant a lot to me. She was speaking my language. Just like I have been making the effort to speak hers.
It reminded me of this poem by Erin Hansen. Sure, it’s meant to be from a person to their partner but if you take out the bit about kissing bruises (that’d be weird) the sentiment is right. So, Mum, this ones for you…
I Love you, too
You said you couldn’t keep waiting,
For me to say “I love you too”,
But I’d said it to you every day,
In ways you never even knew,
It poured over the umbrella,
That I held for you in rain,
Caught in the way I kissed your bruises,
Just to take away the pain,
Baked in the cake I made you,
When you got the biggest slice,
And when you told me that you loved it,
How I baked it for you twice,
It was buckled in the seatbelt,
I always told you to put on,
And in the ways that I would miss you,
In the days that you were gone,
I might not have said those four words,
In the old and standard way,
But I’d learnt actions speak much louder,
Than anything that you can say,
So if you’re really tired of waiting,
For four small words to leave my throat,
All I can say is that it’s cold outside,
So don’t forget your coat.