Happy Mothers Day

This is the little altar I keep on my dresser. It has photos, treasures from Australia, my baby teeth jar and doilies and ceramics from my Nana. I look at it every day at some point, and if I had to save one thing in a hasty getaway situation I would sweep all this into a box as I ran for it.















Anyway, on the dresser are two photos, both taken many years ago. One is of me and my mum with my first car, and one is of my Nana when she was only a few years older than I am now, hanging out what must have been shocking quantities of laundry done for her seven boys.
















My mum has influenced me in so many positive ways - she went back to college as an adult to earn her degree, she is an inspired fabric artist and she has come through illness into wellness again with courage and tenacity. She came to the States to attend each of the births of my children and was the best doula a new mother could want. Although we talk on the phone and email it's not like living near each other, and as I watch my children grow I miss her more each day.

My Nana raised seven sons, one of whom is my father. As a child the time I spent at her and my grandfathers home was warm, nourishing and loving, as only a grandparents home can be. I remember jam and cream on toast, being snuck lollies, and picture frames filled with photos of people I didn't know, but who I was of.
Three years ago, when I last saw my Nana, at her kitchen table watching my kids drinking green cordial and eating cake, I found myself a happy and contented child again, safe and loved completely.

Mum and Nana, if I could see you today, for all the good you have done me, I would offer simple gifts -

A bouquet of flowers,



















and a cup of hot sweet tea on a sunny table where we had all the time in the world to reminisce, giggle, gossip and chat.















And, as you do, that would mean the world to me.