Goodbye Mum, I love you

My Mum passed away 2 weeks ago - 4.45pm on 3rd september 2005. I don't want to remember how or why - I just want to remeber her. She was my best friend and I really don't know how I am going to get along without her. But I'm trying...because I know she would want me to.

It's the little things I miss- the smell of her hair, her soft hands, her big hugs. Man, my Mum gave the best cuddles in the whole world. When I was living in London and I would cry to Big M about being homesick, it was my Mum's hugs that I missed the most.

She was a brilliant cook and I can't believe the number of recipes I hadn't managed to learn. Her chicken soup was phenomenal but that's gone with her. Her world famous banana cake and zucchini patties I have though and each time I make a batch I will think of her.

She was a happy person - even when she was sick she would make us laugh and we could make her laugh. Her laugh was like a puffing train and it was very contagious. I will miss that.

I wanted to make this a huge entry and there is so much I want to write about her but I just can't do her justice in one entry. Maybe I will share more at a later stage. Maybe not. I just can't even think straight at the moment.

To all you bloggers out there that still can, hug your Mum's. For God only knows, I wish that I could.

Wind

Gale force winds in Melbourne. I let my hair down and reveled in it.

For years I had afro hair - a bit like Micheal Jackson during the "ABC" days. My Mum would shave it as close to my head as she could possibly get it and between the ages of 7 and 16, I either looked liked a shorn sheep or, in the in-between stages- disco Stu on E. I hated my hair and the fact that it never moved or changed shape. In high school, girls would stick pens in my hair which would stay put until I finally bent over. When I was 16, I finally met a hairdresser who would chemicaly straighten my hair. For 7 years I would religiously visit this hairdresser every 6 months to get my hair permed backwards, so it would look like a really bad Madonna pre-1990. When I first had it done the hairdresser asked me what I was looking forward to the most. I said to feel the wind blow through my hair.

Last night, I was walking from the tram stop to home and the force of the wind almost knocked me over. My hair had come away from my clip in parts and I decided to give in and let it all hang loose. My hair is below shoulder length and as it swooshed in front of my face and bellowed behind me, I gave out a loud laugh. It was wonderful.

As I got to my apartment building, there were new neighbours leaving the foyer. I believe they looked at me and my skewiff hair in disbelief. I just looked them in the eyes (and through my hair) and said " Pretty windy out tonight".

As I entered the stairwell, I heard them laugh. Thank God for wind blown hair. Thank God for chemical straighteners. Thank God for progress. Hee....