Dear Mum,
How could I have been so lucky to be your son?
How did I get so lucky, at the very first moment, to be lifted up by your strong sheltering arms. To be your little blond, blue eyed boy.
How did I get so lucky.
How did I get so lucky to grow up in the shelter of the life that you and dad made for us? For me, and for Sara. A wonderful life, built from thousands of good days. Thousands of breakfasts, lunches and dinners. Thousands of school and soccer runs. Thousands of stories before bedtime. In my memory, every single day of the magic childhood you made for us had blue sky. The blue you loved so much.
How did I get so lucky.
How did I get so lucky to inherit your adventurous spirit? To follow you out to the mountains, the forests, the rivers. To explore Hanmer under snow, to learn to ski. To run free at Totaranui, down the summer paths and shores. To learn to swim, sail, to climb, to fully engage with the world in all its physical dimensions. It’s realness… earth, wood, stone, water, sky.
How did I get so lucky.
How did I get so lucky to be given your gift of wonder? Wonder at, and love of, that natural world. To be shown the ever present magic in nature, through your joy at mushrooms, birds, flowers, trees, all described in vivid detail. To share a thousand views with you, to hear your ever-present encouragement; “take a mental picture, kids”. To be shown how to really see, and how to remember.
How did I get so lucky.
How did I get so lucky that the gift of your support was endless? That my young adult forays out into the world, to create my own life, were met with nothing but encouragement. You wanted us to do what we wanted to do, and matched our enthusiasm for each new goal and dream. Even the ones you knew, in your wisdom, would be temporary.
How did we get so lucky.
How did I get so lucky that as the world became real, as the jobs got hard, when my heart was broken, when my tears would flow, that it was still your arms that held me, your silent presence that comforted me, you who witnessed me with complete understanding, with boundless love.
How did I get so lucky.
How did we get so lucky to see your lifelong love demonstrated? You and Dad, a true, deep, abiding, love. A love of trust. Of loyalty. Of honesty. Of kindness. Of endless care. It took me thirty years to realise that the shining example you and Dad set for Sara and I was not common. That the kind of love you had, cherished, and maintained… that was rare. So rare.
How did we get so lucky.
How did we get so lucky that your joy, patience and resilience was undimmed by time? Your downs were brief, your occasional anger so, so infrequent that it was always a surprise. Less like a tropical storm, more like a rain shower from a clear sky… here then gone, followed immediately by rainbows.
How could we have been so lucky that even your quirks were joyful? You’d never throw any food away, no matter how small the remainder, and as a result you’ve left us with the world’s largest collection of tiny Tupperware.
Lucky indeed.
How could I have been so lucky, that we got to leave everything so perfectly? So many have to live forever with the weight of ill timed words they never knew would be the last. So many have to live forever with the weight of ill timed words they never knew would be the last. But not you and I.
Here’s how lucky I am; the last time I saw you was at your home, our last hug a warm, happy embrace, a smile, a cheerful wave goodbye. One of the very last times we spoke was to share the news of Renee and mys engagement. To hear your joy, your delight in this part of my journey, one that means so much to a mother… to see their child find deep love and commitment.
How could I be so lucky that the very last message I sent to you was a beautiful photo of us together at Kaiteriteri, words of joy at my memories of that day, a hug emoji, some kisses, xx.
How could I have been so lucky.
How could we have been so lucky to get so much time with you? It was never going to be enough. But it was also more than we could have ever hoped for. There are a million possible worlds where we had less of your time and love. And so, so few where we had more. How did we get so lucky.
In every ancient book that guides us, there is a parable of a man who is given riches, and yet still asks for more. In every ancient book that guides us, there is a parable of a man who is given riches, and yet still asks for more. And in these stories, those riches are taken from him. For the sin of not recognising all that he had been given.
How did I get so lucky that I can lie still in the night, trembling before the universe, not wanting to speak, not daring to ask for a single extra day… because the life and the love we had with you was so much. A waterfall overflowing. A field of a billion flowers in the spring. An unfathomable bounty. To ask for more would be to spurn that higher power, to have ignored the story, the lesson.
How, how, how, did I get so lucky.
Dearest Mum, how could we be so lucky, that we get to carry your love forever, in our hearts.
Thank you Mum.
Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.
