Mummy

Happy 80th birthday Mummy, I can’t think of anybody more special to us (apart from Daddy of course).

Today we celebrate you, what you mean to us and all that you bring and have brought to our family. As the saying goes, behind a successful man (Daddy) is a (hard working) woman.

That woman is you and Mummy to me, Granny to your ten grandchildren, Vera to your friends. So many words to describe you. Loyal, straightforward, disciplined. Kind, thoughtful, generous. Playful, funny, passionate. Athletic, sporty, competitive. Loving, warm and demonstrative.

You never pretend to be anybody but yourself.

You also have a wide range of personal sayings which we will talk about later.

How we love you Mummy.

Let’s start from the beginning though, growing up.

The strictest mother.

Behind a soft exterior was/is an iron will. We learnt very early on this was something we never wanted to cross.

The vicar’s coming for tea you said, be on your best behaviour. It turns out we weren’t. The mighty wrath fell upon us that day and any other day we dared not toe the line. We used all the tactics in the book to get back at you for making our lives so miserable.

Wait until Daddy comes home, you’d say.

Really? Watch us.

Picture the scene.

Daddy arrives back from work none the wiser. He’s hoping for a quiet evening in, but oh no such luck. As he puts the key in the lock, we are ready to open the door for him. An overly cheery hello can I take your briefcase Daddy, how was your day has already given the game away. We’ll try to get Daddy on our side, we’ll be so sweetly nice that he’ll not believe it when you say we’ve been so badly behaved, so rude. 

But all you have to say is Darling, can I have a word and our hearts sink, we know we’ve lost the battle before it’s even begun. You’ll tell Daddy what naughty girls we have been, and he will always take your side.

So we bring out the big guns. The table needs to be laid you say, so it’s the worst knives and forks for you and Daddy, the glasses too, quietly we seek revenge through our utensil choices.

Ha.

A quick glance across the table as we sit down for dinner, so you think you’ve won but look. You’ve got the worst crockery. We find it hard not to stifle our glee as you pick up the world’s worst knife and fork we could find in the cutlery draw. Deathly silence as we eat. It takes all our efforts not to look at each other and laugh.

We’re not always in the dog box, sometimes Daddy is. Then you’ll say Daddy’s had a skinful* he’s come back reeking* of garlic, they’ve laced* his food in it.

Daddy has acquired a knack of quietly doing his own thing anyway.

Daddy is Darling whether you’re cross with him or not, sometimes Sweetheart and then we know it’s all going lovey dovey and we scatter.

Life at home is busy, if we’re not preparing food, we’re ironing, if we’re not ironing, we’re cleaning. It’s all systems go; clear the decks you say. I have a habit of disappearing, somebody’s got to take a breather. Daddy will come home later, and you’ll say you’ve been slaving over a hot stove, been at it all day working your fingers to the bone.

In all honesty you have. You are a full-time kindergarten teacher at the British School of Gran Canaria. You juggle this alongside raising us, doing the shopping, cooking dinners, supporting Daddy, running a household. Never one to do anything in half measures, you throw your heart and soul into teaching little 4- to 5-year-olds. For most of the children English isn't their first language, this is their first year of school, a daunting prospect for both teacher and child. But with a careful balance of encouragement, love and firm boundaries, you set out with intention.  They will leave your class having learnt to read and write, they will be speaking English with confidence, you will have instilled order and routine, they will be thriving.

Your classroom is a sea of colour, friezes of children’s artwork surround the walls. It's a busy space full of life and activity. Sometimes I come to visit you at school while I'm on holiday. You’ve prepared the children beforehand.

I walk in. Ah, now who’s this you say.

A mix of happy faces turn to look at me, Saaaallyyy they sing in unison. I smile from ear to ear.

Mummy, you’re a natural teacher and Julia has inherited these qualities from you.

How would you have ever known that this was your path had Ron Williams not offered you the job as kindergarten teacher all those years ago. He must've felt it in his bones. You accepted the position with no training or experience, learning quickly on the job, using your natural instincts to guide and nurture, quickly gaining respect from parents and teachers alike. You always arrive early to school, preparing in advance the activities of the day. Invariably working late at night, cutting out artwork, building friezes for the latest topic you are doing with the children.

There is a pride in your job, a meticulous attention to detail, the highest standard. You apply this in everything you do.

Alongside being a kindergarten teacher, you're a PE teacher too. Your love of sport and sense of competitiveness is clear to see. Not only do you love athletics, tennis, hockey but you're passionate about football. Must be the Liverpudlian in you. We will often hear you squeal with delight watching your team win or score a goal. Sometimes you go to watch a game in the Estadio Insular, you pick up a love for doing the quiniela every week. I help you guess which teams will win or draw, home or away.

At dinner time, I am assigned the important job of pouring your beer. There will always be a beer. I learn to pour it with the glass cocked at an angle, you don't want a thick head, just a small one. Over the years I get it off to a fine art. I don't know any other mother who loves a beer or football like you.

You are stylish and fashion conscious, another school photo, another hairstyle.

We watch you starry eyed as you walk down the stairs all made up ready to go out for the evening. Did we ever say Mummy you look beautiful or did we just think it. Only a touch of make-up and your eyes are bluer and bigger and brighter than ever. Your hair is blow dried and styled, an outfit to show off your slim figure, smelling beautiful, you will make an entrance wherever you go.

Patience might not be your forte. I’ve had it up to here, am I talking for the good of my health I’m sick to the back teeth of this I can’t make head nor tail of it.

You’re capable of many things but you’re not good with blood or anything related to bodily functions.

Oh don’t my legs have gone to jelly.

It’s easy to make you laugh when we take you off, Daniel and Alexander do fabulous impersonations, a sign of their affection for you.

Pack it in you say, holding on to the kitchen counter in almost hysterical laughter.

Nothing gives us more joy than to see you let your guard down and relax.

There’s a heavy English accent when you speak Spanish, several grammatical glitches here and there. We’ll quietly correct you. Certain Spanish words become the norm. Basura, barranco, mando. La Provincia and later the Canarias 7 newspapers are bought daily. Sitting down to read, you will turn the newspaper over to look at the esquelas on the back page, the latest deaths. It’s only the wife of the brother of the lady who lived down the road from us 20 odd years ago. She’s died.

I don’t believe it.

And so, like a true detective, you’ll connect the dots and piece the family tree together. Do you remember her you say, we say yes but the memory is distant. If you hadn’t reminded us we almost certainly would’ve forgotten.

Domestic chores are executed and completed with army like precision. There is a system to everything. From hanging the washing, to stacking the dishwasher - knives in knives, forks in forks - to storing the Tupperware, to making the bed. We strive to get it right, there aren’t many of us that do, Andrés remains in poll position, he scores a 10 for making the bed, tying back the curtains and leaving the bedroom in the state it was left in.

There is pride in everything you do, even the cars you drive. During our childhood years you drive a Saab, in the later years it’s your beloved BMW. These cars are an extension of you, you love a bit of luxury and here it is. As we get into the car and drive away the music goes on, the volume on high as we sing I am a woman in love. For at this very moment we are in love, we are Barbara Streisand and we’re giving it our all.

Talking of luxury, flying long haul to South Africa you go business class and decide this is the only way to travel.

You are a master at cryptic crosswords, how many times have you explained to us how you’ve got the answer. You’d think we’d have got the hang of it by now, but we are lost on the first clue. Sudoku is another favourite, anything quick and logical. Greg challenges you to a game, he says the first one to finish wins. You encourage us to play card games and board games, you’re a team player through and through.

You write a letter to us every week when we leave home. You write to Nanna and Grandad. You make audio tapes for Nanna. You host hundreds of guests. Some stay with us, some come for dinner. Every time you make it memorable. You allow us to invite our current boyfriends to come on holiday. Such a risky business considering it’s based on one thing. The trunks test. This involves not only looking good in a pair of trunks whilst out at sea on a boat, but how confident is his swimming? He’s either got it or he hasn’t.

Oh dear he hasn’t.

We don’t say a word but we both know the relationship is not going to last, it hasn’t even got off the starting blocks.

Not your oil painting.

Then years later a young blond haired South African arrives on the scene. He passes the trunks test with flying colours. This one is an oil painting. The rest is history.

When the time comes to get married, I ask you to choose my wedding dress, the options are limited here. You are in the Canaries, and I am in South Africa. You rise to the challenge. You know what I like, I say. Between you and Julia you come up with a plan. You send a photo of the dress in the post. Perfect I say on a phone call home. I need your measurements. Another letter home. Measurements taken, made to order. A week before the wedding, you arrive with the wedding dress. It fits like a glove. It is 100 per cent me. Never a doubt in my mind that you will execute the plan perfectly from start to finish.  

Trustworthy, dependable, unfailing.

How lucky I am, how lucky are we.

As the years go by, the boys are born, and they grow up. Time to impart your values, to pass them down, to respect and to uphold. Your love of books and reading. Time to instil discipline and teach three excitable boys how to look after their things and help with domestic chores. Time to remind them to take pride in everything they do.

Which brings me lastly to your myriad of sayings and their meanings.

Cracking the flags, pots are dry as a stick - very hot outside

Streptocarcus - not a dinosaur, actually a plant - streptocarpus

Can’t for the life of me, par for the course, God help us - run and hide everybody it’s not looking good

Sitting here like a nig nog - you’re late, also in trouble

Had a skinful, reeking/laced in garlic - Daddy’s in the dog box

The crux of the matter - the point is

Being plagued by mosquitoes - one relentless mosquito

Running around like a hairless chicken, clear the decks, all systems go - in heat of moment hairless could be confused with headless but we don’t question we proceed with maximum focus completing all chores in record time

Glad you think it’s funny - we might get away with this

Sick to the back teeth of - wait a minute, things look like they’re turning again

Fiddle faddling around - somebody’s not been doing their job properly

Willy nilly - anybody’s guess

Had it in the neck, wretched, darn perishing, ruddy nuisance - please don’t mind me saying but the xxxx has hit the fan

As I write this Mummy, I am aware of how much Daddy and I have teased you over the years. Just when you think you’ve heard a classic, another one comes out which tops the last. It has given us such joy to make fun and laugh with you and I hope to diffuse some difficult situations. But in all seriousness, we love and cherish you. You have committed yourself to our family and guided and guarded us through life with unwavering loyalty. You have loved and supported us and been our cheerleader, always. Your value in family has been unwavering. Throughout all the years of our comings and goings certain things have remained constant.  A warm dinner will be waiting, the beds will be made, and the house will be spotless, cleaned from top to bottom to the very inch of its life.

And all those wretched leaves will have been swept up too.

Besitos Mamacita, I hope you feel the love from all around.

Sally