Thank you mum, for your playfulness

 Below you can find another chapter from the book Thank you, mum.  I hope it touches your heart.

(For the Swedish version, scroll up to the next post.)

I believe you became a primary school teacher because you, yourself, never stopped being a child. As a teacher, you could keep playing. You did so much more than the curriculum. You let the kids play, sing, play theatre, and just be children.

            You played and laughed with us, and the parties you and Dad hosted were filled with singing and games. The parties you arranged for us were silly, different, and full of joy. Many of my friends have since told me they still remember those parties.

            You loved to look after your grandchildren and to take them on adventures out in the woods. Why eat lunch inside when you can eat from your lunch box on a log in the woods?

            You never aspired to be a strict teacher or a meticulous mother. You were just a kid like the rest of us. A kid, who happily tramped through the water puddles, skidded on an icy road, and stomped in the mud. Maybe you knew something that the rest of us often forget. That even though our bodies grow old, we all remain children deep inside.

            I was looking through a box of memories when I found an old letter from you. A letter that you wrote to me when I was an au-pair in France. You wrote that you missed our afternoon chats. We talked a lot; no topic was off-limits. You were a good friend as well as a mother.    

            Thank you, Mum, for never fully growing up.

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This was a chapter from the book Thank you, mum. A book for those who miss someone.

To read all chapters, type Thank you Mum in the search field on this blog

If you would like to give the book to someone you think can be soothed by it, or to yourself, you can find it on Amazon.