Summary

A retrospective review of the person behind the “Mum” persona and what makes a great mum and how this has lead him to realise that he has embraced many of her “soft skill” teachings.

Transcript:

In retrospect there was a lot I didn’t know about my own Mother. Which is okay, to me she was “Mum”. Someone who, like my Dad, was always there for me, as a child, growing up and also as an adult, if needed.

Yet her life didn’t start the day I was born. Okay, the “Mum” part did, seeing as I was the oldest, but she was a grown woman with unique experiences of her own.

She would talk, mostly when prompted, about current-day events mirroring events of her own childhood. She was a pre-teen child during the Second World War and I would tease her that the world was black and white because thanks to newsreel film that’s how I viewed it. And although she would talk about playing on the remains of a bombed out building and so on, the physical side of war, I never heard talk about how it felt to grow up in wartime.

Of course, you can only grow up once and whatever time, that’s all you know. It’s only later that you could compare to later times; be they good or bad.

Maybe Mum was like me, in that she accepted the world for what it is, and that if you couldn’t change it then don’t worry about it.

And maybe she took her cue from her parents and siblings. If they accepted it, didn’t make a fuss, then the “storm”, like all storms, would eventually pass. It’s certainly a trait I feel she’d passed on to me.

What Mum and Dad did pass on was a feeling of being loved, of security and stability. Almost as if when they made the decision to start a family they both sat down to draw up a list of “be like this” and “don’t do that” sort of thing. If they did it worked out great. And if they winged it, then I take my hat off to them for nailing it.

Mum didn’t have a massive circle of friends, might come across as modestly shy, but she had a determined and tenacious streak, often described as stubborn. Mostly it was implemented positively; if she needed to do or know something then action was required.

I know she used to belong to the “Young Wives”, and also the “Women’s Institute”. Both I feel as a need to know how to be a good mother. Growing up she lost her own mother when she was nine and did not get on with her step-mother. So, needing knowledge she went out to find it, possibly leaving my Dad literally holding the baby; aka me.

I have lovely memories of home-life; playing, exploring, learning and in retrospect knowing I had a great childhood. All thanks to Mum. She gave me and my Sister the best start in life, solid foundations on which to grow.

I realise that this podcast is in part a means for me to heal from the trauma of losing my Mum, but also, hopefully, as an example to others about what being a great mother is. And in that regard I find it is my own personal salute to my Mum, who only with retrospect I realise was a true unsung  hero for much of my life.

And for my own peace of mind I realise I had the awareness to say as much before she passed. That all those “Best Mum In The World” cards were not in jest, that I truly believed it, both then and now. Heartbroken to realise I will never be buying another.

And she had hidden talents. Mum wasn’t the sort of person who boasted about her abilities, just quietly got on with it. Needlework, playing the piano and I’m sure many more. It sounds crazy, but I didn’t know about the piano until very late in life. The same way I didn’t know she didn’t like her photograph being taken until after she had passed and my Dad asked if I had any with just Mum on it.

And I’m sure there were many more instances of individuality. But was that really surprising that I didn’t know? Dad knows, probably knows far more and so he should, they’d known each other for nigh on eighty years. To me all she wanted to be was “Mum” and I’m okay with that. We’re all individual, all with our own dreams and desires in life and that’s how it should be. She would not have wanted me to follow her dreams any more than I would my Wife to follow mine or visa versa.

We must each forge our own path in life, be responsible for our own triumphs and failures. But above all, be our own person. Solid foundations allows that.

My parents did what most see as their role, equipped my Sister and I for life post-childhood, with mindset to succeed in addition to sharing their own life -skills.

As I’m a bit of a DIY-er it’s easy to reflect on the practical skills my Dad passed down. All those hours in the garage, house or garden; making, fixing or out of sheer necessity inventing things. My Dad was an engineer and I know much of his knowledge features when I’m working on my own garage projects or at work – building models in Excel.

But looking back I realise that my Mum also taught me many things; what I term a “Soft” skills set. Not in a derogatory sense but in the fact that they were harder to define and identify when compared to how to use tools like a hammer and chisel.

Without even being aware of it Mum taught me resilience. The art of not panicking and to be able to pick myself up when things don’t go according to plan. Another word for this is fortitude; something I’ve mentioned previously. Mum had a plentiful supply; to be able to stand back, reassess and find a solution to move forward with.

Now don’t get me wrong, my Dad also enabled me. I remember when I was reviewing what O-levels to take, the need to keep my options open. Then when I realised I wasn’t going to get my A-levels, Dad was there with a plan, which turned out to be College. But one thing my Mum had that my Dad struggled with, was patience. An attitude to persevere against obstacles and the odds is all well and good but you need to have patience to stand back and review, to wait, else you could mess it up big-time.

I’m also a solutions person. Again, I attribute this to both Mum and Dad. Dad because of the obvious engineering solutions as I helped him work on the garden and house. But Mum also, as I don’t ever recall her catastrophising about something failing, that there wasn’t enough money or when something got broken.

I remember 1974 when the Government, to conserve electricity, introduced the three-day week; which basically meant power cuts – no electricity for hours at a time. Fortunately we had a gas cooker so we never went hungry. But the electric kettle was pushed to one side in favour of the “singing” blue kettle that could sit on the gas hob. Candles were organised, as too were lectures on the danger of setting fire to the house via the curtains or other flammable material.

No television of course, but no panic either. Remember, back then the internet, mobile phones, CD players or even VCR’s had yet to be invented. It was winter, so we stayed in the living room with just the gas fire until it was time for bed; which was chilly as our house didn’t have central heating; just electric storage heaters that were useless.

Mum organised herself around the times when she did have electricity; for washing with the twin-tub, or to use the vacuum cleaner.

The make-do-and-mend attitude Mum had learnt during the Second World War was adapted and put to good use. Not that Mum would have been unique in that regard, many households were coping with the difficulty in similar ways. But it shows how a positive mindset can transfer itself down through the generations; from my Mum’s parents, to her and then to me and my Sister.

And it’s this positive mindset, the “can do” attitude Mum and Dad cultivated in me that I’m immensely grateful for. It has served me well over the years and it was with that mindset that I approached the problem of Mum’s coffin.

Having learnt that the Co-op did them, and ordered one in the earlier episode, I neglected to mention that there was a communication problem that meant the ones the Co-op had in stock were not the right size. Yet their supplier did have some. But the Co-op were not allowed to go pick it up and the supplier only delivered with in a certain radius and we were twice that range.

The alternative wicker coffin was available. But to me, if Mum wanted a woollen one, she would get a woollen one. I would go and pick it up myself!

I measured the car, but the coffin was way too big for the boot. Reclining the passenger seat to near-horizontal allowed enough room. But the seat, the back rest, the headrest and the seatbelt attachments made it anything but a level base. Not to mention there was nothing to stop the coffin scooting forward if I had to brake suddenly. And knowing the coffin was wool and cardboard I had to make sure it would not bend in the middle in transit – even though it would be empty.

Nil desperandum. I would build a platform. I had suitable plywood sheeting in the garage, all I had to do was buy some 30mm diameter plastic pipe and matching joints and I could build a platform over the irregular seat surface. I opted for plastic pipes as I could build it modular, to be put together when I got to my destination, as I was unsure as to whether what I proposed was legal; as it blocked my use of the passenger door.

Then the morning I was due to go and pick up the coffin another miscommunication; it hadn’t arrived at the supplier. They were most apologetic and as compensation would deliver it to the Co-op.

As with many things in life, it all worked out in the end. Only my Dad knew of my tribulations. And maybe Mum of course, looking down on us, hopefully pleased with my resilience and determination to succeed. For that’s what gets us through such difficulties; the ability to assess the problem, break it down into small manageable chunks and then solve them one at a time. It’s an attribute that’s served me on more occasions than I can remember.

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