It sounds harsh, but she did. I know we are not supposed to speak ill of the dead, but she really did fail both me and my children.

She smothered me with love and did everything for me. She would make my lunch for school before I had even woken up as a young child.

I remember her smile and her absolute belief in me.

How she would hold me and scold me. How she made me feel better even when I was sick. She was the perfect mother while she lived.

Then she got sick, diabetes took its toll, robbing her of her sight and her will to live. Her final years were a tragic waste – I was only 14 years old at the time of her passing. I suppose her death was a blessing; her last few years had been trips into and out of hospital. But she never stopped having time for a quick hug or a smiling “I love you”.

So, as you read this, you are wondering how she failed…

Well, to be honest, she did not fail in an earthly sense, but my children missed out. They never got a chance to meet the most wonderful person in my world. My dad was okay, but my mom was the healer of wounds, the educator of life, the first woman I truly loved…

We would sit watching TV – her being blind made my job very important. I was the designated “explainer” of what was happening on the screen, and I would regale her with descriptions of what I could see so that she knew what was happening.

Even some 36 years after her death, I sometimes still suddenly blurt out, “He has a big knife and is opening the door” or some other inane description of what I can see while the family are watching the telly… Much to the amusement of my children, who shout out “We know, dad, we can see!”

I smile, as it is her lasting legacy to me and I am so happy I have that little quirk  connecting us over time, a never-ending reminder of someone I loved with all my heart as only a child can love and who unconditionally loved me.

She failed me because I needed her to live. I did not get a chance to see her get old and fragile – she was in the prime of her life one minute and dying the next. The dying part took several years and we were closer than ever. But more importantly, my children never got to meet their gran and she never got to see me marry my beautiful wife. She was not there when I held my daughters for the first time and realised I was a parent…

So, to all those who read this, cherish your time with your mother! No matter how long or how short, enjoy each day, each hour and every minute!

I miss you, mom…

Diabetes prevention