Legacy

Dear World,

There are times I find my frustration levels increase especially when it comes to discussions around womanhood.

I want the best for my girls, a world where they are able to be the best them they can be. A world a little freer from the fears inherent with being female. A world where they are able to pursue the things they want to pursue.

I also want more. I want them to know that in their lives there will be women who come along to teach them things and mentor them in the ways of how to have their best lives.

As I reflect on these things, and what I want for my girls, I know one of the things we don’t do enough is celebrate the women in our lives who build us up.

So, I am going to spend some time celebrating my mother. Yes I am one of those people. My mother may no longer be with us, a fact that is harder to deal with some days than others, but her legacy lives on in my life, I only hope I do it justice.

Sylvia was an amazing woman. Her quiet strength inspired me in so many ways.

When I was younger she was a steadying presence, who made sure all the sequins were sewn onto my end of year concert costumes and I got to all my ballet and gymnastics classes every week. She even started coaching when we moved somewhere there was no gym class, using her connections to those who ran bigger city schools to get us the support and stuff we needed.

She brought opportunities to a smaller town. Working with youth in unofficial capacities to ensure not only her children got choices but others as well.

Even when things were tough, more often than us kids might have known, she made sure we knew we were well loved and well looked after. I remember being about eleven and having a conversation with her about what I wanted for a birthday present and saying I didn’t need anything because I knew money was really tight. I know that hurt her heart, not that I meant it to. I know she wished she could give us more. Later on, she told me she wished she had never put that sort of pressure on me.

From the perspective of time I know she gave us all she could, and we never lacked for love, even as most of our clothes were hand me downs from older cousins. My mother provided us a safe place to be.

She also modelled a strong work ethic, taking on cleaning and other jobs to make sure she could give us that little extra that our father’s drinking pissed away. She was a living example of personal and fiscal responsibility which has always stuck with me. She took pride in what she did, whether it was doing the laundry for other people, or being a teacher’s assistant - something she excelled at, particularly with special needs children.

My mother was also my guardian angel in ways I never understood until much later. When I was still very young I said something to her that caused concern and she immediately stepped in to ensure I was never left alone with a certain young man (my best friend’s older brother). She didn’t ignore my comment, she didn’t question or dismiss my comment, neither did she dismiss my concerns later in life. She always paid attention and demonstrated how to be the kind of mother who loves and supports her children no matter what.

She was the kind of mother I try to model myself on, not only when my children were younger, I think that is an age we all just try to do our best. Her parenting influence has been more noticeable as my children have grown.

I swore always to listen and believe my children (except when I know they are lying, trying to pull one over on me, which they don’t do often because I’m good at detecting a lie). I always wanted to make sure my house was a safe haven for anyone, especially my kid’s friends, and the fact it has been, is in part a testament to her.

Our relationship wasn’t without it’s more difficult times. She didn’t always understand me, but she always supported me. Particularly in certain life choices like my passion for the creative and my life partner. She did however teach me to be brave, and not give up on my dreams.

One of the most valuable lessons she taught me was how to have fun and the value of humour and laughter.

In her family, there was an unspoken tradition to play a prank on the bride and groom at every grandchild’s wedding – one year they got the keys to one couple’s honeymoon luggage and sewed all the arm and leg holes closed. I wasn’t about to let that happen to me. On my wedding night, I didn’t prepare an overnight bag, and I didn’t tell them where we were spending the night, we even booked under a false name. When I went back to my parent’s house to grab some clothes I found my mother had put a whole heap of dry rice in my large bag. So, like the daughter she taught me to be, I tipped my whole bag out into her bed, before repacking my clothes. Then for good measure, when I remade her bed, I short-sheeted it. They were picking rice out of their shagpile for months.

Sylvia showed incredible strength and peace, even in the darkest of times, still using humour then. The cancer came and she had her breasts removed, and as difficult as this time was, the most vivid memory I have, is sitting in the airport lounge playing hot potato with her fake breast insert. The disapproving looks we got only made us laugh harder.

Her attitude through life has been a great shining light for me as I find I often use humour as she did. Just before the end she told me when it got dark and hard she would call me up just so she could laugh, because I wouldn’t judge her need for that.

Perhaps though the greatest testament to my mother, isn’t my words and imprint she left on my life and those of my siblings. I think the greatest testament was her funeral. People came from all over to say goodbye. The church wasn’t her church, but the biggest one in her town, and there was standing room only with the crowd going all the way out the door. One woman’s life, her actions and attitude had a ripple affect through so many places, I don’t think in her life she knew just how much she meant to so many, but I certainly understood just how special she was on that day.

This is how you live your best life. She was an example to all who knew her, of the sort of woman I hope to be – strong, loyal, genuine, standing for others who can’t stand for themselves, dependable, smart, ethical and a deeply joyous person even when life is filled with shadows.

I miss her. I miss what could have been had she lived long enough to know her grandchildren. I only hope that the echoes of her continue through my life.

I also want the world to know that the women we look up to don’t have to be celebrities as we define them, we should invert the concept and make celebrities of those who truly demonstrate the best the world has to offer, and I believe without question that my mother was one of those people.