Maria’s final published version

Here is the final published version of Maria’s text:

January 30th 2006

Dear Mum!

I was thinking a lot yesterday, and mostly it was about you. I assume you are a bit confused right now wondering why you have received this letter… Am I right? Well, it isn’t that complicated. If I was going to write a novel or a book about you, the title of it would be:

A story of my mother

…and why I appreciate her so much

You see mum, I know I’m not that kind of person who showers people with sentences on how much I appreciate them. Maybe I tell my friends once in a while, but I think my feelings towards people often reflect through my actions, behaviour and eyes. This letter is my way of letting you know that I really admire you, since I’m not too good in letting you know by saying it.

I’ve now come to that stage in life where I think, as an adult, that it’s suitable to let you know how much you mean to me. I really should tell you more often and especially now when I’m not living at home so you can read my eyes. Hopefully you’ll receive this letter on Mother’s Day, so HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY, mum!

Through the years I’ve kept a journal of things happening in my life. Mostly it contains personal stories about friends, boys and various happenings – typical things to write about I guess. When I look back into the journals I see I’ve written stuff about you as well. It’s especially from my teens and after we’ve had an argument or disagreed about something. I see now that it was silly things, but at that point it wasn’t. I especially remember that time you told me I couldn’t go with Elizabeth to Eric, to watch a movie with them and one of his friends. I was so angry at you that evening. I cried my eyes out in anger and got totally red in my face because I burst some veins. I think this episode build the basis for the journey some weekends later. I was finally 18, and went to a cabin even though you told me not to. But you couldn’t. I was 18, and for the first time I didn’t listen to you and defied your statement. I’ve always respected you and your wishes, but not this time and I think this was at the back of my head the entire weekend. I actually didn’t enjoy myself much. I’m really sorry that I disappointed you so much by going, but I learned something from it. I need to know that I have your full support and that you are happy for me, whatever I decide to do.

During a lifetime we meet hundreds, if not thousands of people that will have some effect on us. We might see some of these people only on the street for a second or two, while others become true friends. Still, there are some people in our lives that have been a big part of us forever, and most people are lucky to have them in their lives for a very long time. Dad and you are these persons, mum. Catherine and I have had what I will call a perfect childhood. We’ve never missed anything necessary, and have been brought up by a loving family in every way. Still mum, I used to be quite jealous of my friends. I thought they got to do more than I did, especially when it came to staying out late. I always had to be at home by a certain time. This was the typical discussion-theme at the age of 12-13. I felt you treated me as a child to a certain extent, but as you have admitted, you are an overprotecting person. Actually I’m glad you are… If you hadn’t bothered I think I would have felt unloved. What if you hadn’t cared, then Martina and I would probably have been into our neighbour’s shed for a very long time. Do you remember that? I think we were about six or seven years old, and we couldn’t get out of there. The lock caught. I wasn’t scared then, but we were severely told off after we got out. I have to smile when I think about it. Martina and I hid a couple of times that I can remember, and got grounded both times. It’s funny to think about now.

Mum, if you were asked to come up with one special thing from the time we used to live under the same roof, what would it be? I think I would have chosen the time when I was supposed to move away for the very first time. It’s difficult to talk about it in a way, but I hope you don’t feel that I blame you for the result. I was excited and nervous at the same time by the thought of a new home and school. I didn’t sleep the night before, and the morning I was supposed to go to the opening, I couldn’t. Something told me I wasn’t ready to leave home yet, and I was tired after three years of secondary school and a whole summer of working. Still, it’s your tears and your struggle to hide them that’s stuck to my memory. The feeling of you going home again like that without me was horrible. I wanted to go home again, with you. The year I lived at home and worked was fine, and I kind of found myself for the first time, my identity was complete. But gosh, sometimes it was pretty difficult to live together that year. I think we talked about that one time. You had changed jobs, and I didn’t go to school. This was a new experience for both of us, and sometimes I thought you were about to suffocate me with all your opinions. You were probably stressed and irritated by me sometimes as well. But we managed it. We always have.

I often get to hear that I look like you, and it has always been like this. It’s especially adults knowing us that say so, but my friends have also mentioned it from time to time. Whether they mean by looks or personality I’m not sure. I think most of them mean by looks, but lately people have also said that I have the same way of explaining things like you do. When I was a teenager this was the worst thing people could tell me. I won’t say much about that period, because I think we both know how chaotic things could be. Now, when I have passed the age of 20, I have another perspective on this. I’ve looked at pictures of you from when you were young, and you were really pretty. You still are. I don’t see much look-alike between us, except from the long, dark hair which you also had. Why is it so hard to be compared to our parents? I’ve asked myself this questions several times, but I can’t find a good answer. It might be because we don’t want to be compared to anyone. We want to be an individual, someone special, and not a copy of anyone. What do you think?

Well, this is the part where I should warn you, it’s the emotional part… I’ve found my way of dealing with the comparison. I take it as a compliment! I think I know you better than the people saying this, and when I think about everything you do and have done through the years, I really look up to you. I know it must have been hard growing up with a mother who has had polio, and I believe you when you say you had to do a lot of things at home. Even though parents always go on about how much harder they had to work. What I really admire though is that you picked up grandma after work on your bicycle. That deserves a medal!

In my eyes you have a heart of gold and you always put other people before yourself. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I think you should listen more to your own wishes and needs – you are allowed to say “no”. You can’t satisfy everyone all the time, and if you do, they might not appreciate your help and friendship the way they should. I know you feel that you fall in between sometimes. I also know you worry about granddad. He’s a hero in both our eyes, and he has a lot of extra work because of grandma and her needs. Sometimes I just feel like crying after talking to you. Like the day you told me how you helped grandma at the hospital, when they didn’t have a proper handicap toilet. I’m really proud of you, and your way of taking care of people around you. Every New Years Eve you go to Dan giving him a cigar, and sit with him for an hour or two even though it’s the same procedure all the time. It’s not hard work, but you use to give Garret a Christmas present just to show that you care. You’ve visited both him and Alex when they were really down and struggled with abstinence. I can’t think of anyone else that would do such a thing. Not people I know in any case.

Mum, you’ve always been there. You held my hand the first day in nursery school and on my first day at school. You were even assistant coach for my handball team one season. I wasn’t too fond of it then, but still I realised that you did a huge job for the team. I’m grateful for that. You are a pillar of my life. I think you know, but you can’t know anything for sure if you don’t get to hear it. Right? But now you know. You help me to remain strong, make decisions when I’m confused, you support and trust me whenever I need you to. I know I can always count on you – when I have a problem or question, when I’m down or nervous – always! For all of this I’m forever thankful. I can’t imagine how I would manage if you haven’t been there for me. You were for instance the first one to comfort me when I got my heart broken by a boy. Actually I can’t see how it would be without you, because you have always been there for me. I would probably fall apart…

I have my best days now as a student, living for my own several hundred miles from home. I know you are happy, both for Catherine and I, and that’s a good feeling. The nice, little surprising presents you (and dad) use to send, is just one of many methods you use to show how much you care and think about us. I love you for doing that! The best thing however, is to come home once and a while, home to dad and you. It’s nice to be the “child” again and to be cuddled with. I think I’ll forever appreciate to be your daughter, your little girl. It’s a good feeling! I hope I’ll have the same strength and heart as you, and I promise to be there for you whenever you need me – like you are there for me. You probably don’t know what song I’m talking about, but in all likelihood you’ve heard it. It’s a song by R.Kelly, and the title fits you perfectly – “The world’s greatest”!!

I love you, mum!

Maria

Maria’s final published version