Most Quotes About Mothers Do Not Suit My Circumstances.

I loved my mum. It's true she put me through some tough times when I was a kid. It's true that she came close to breaking my childhood heart on lots of occasions. It's true that she was quite self centred. But like all of us, she was a product of her childhood too. Which was very strict apparently. She was, as the saying goes, the black sheep of her family.  But what caused her to be that? What was it that made her the rebel, and not her siblings? Who knows? Are our personalities formed, or are we just what we are?
I'm sure that people don't aim to be dysfunctional, if indeed that is what she was. Most of us want to be liked. I know I do. But even so, we all of us do things, or say things sometimes that are unkind or at the very least thoughtless. Unless you are completely heartless, you would normally, in the fullness of time, come to regret any displeasure you might inflict whether intentional or not. I think my mum regretted a lot of things, she did, or indeed, neglected to do.
There was only one time that I can remember a conversation with my mum, in which she tried to explain why she placed me in care. It was a brief explanation, along the lines of how she didn't trust any of my aunts to look after me properly. It was not a satisfactory reason, as far as I was concerned. It didn't help that she was in tears as we spoke. It also didn't help that this brief conversation took place shortly after yet another of my court appearances. A court appearance in which the social services, in trying to seek mitigation for my behaviour, tore her reputation, such as it was, to shreds. Accusing her, among other things, of prostitution. An accusation which she angrily and vehemently denied.

Anyway, my dear readers, as I say, I loved my mother and what I am attempting to do here on this occasion, is not to malign, but to stand, steadfast, strong, and proud, by her side.
There have been times when I have spoken about her in less than glowing terms. But I do hope you have been aware of the underlying affection in the narrative. Because despite everything, she was not a bad person, nor was she uncaring. In fact, beneath the tough exterior she was a gentle character, with a heart of goodness, if not quite gold. You would, I am certain, had you met her, particularly in her middle years, have taken to her.
It is so difficult to describe this complex woman. Many who knew her would struggle to recognise the person I have spoken about so openly. They would see only the person that she, as an accomplished deceiver, wanted them to see, and I don't mean this in a nasty way.
Anyway, enough of these rambling, and somewhat incoherent thoughts. Today I do not want to talk about her in a negative way. Today I want to remember her as the kind and generous soul she was. I want to remember her as the laughing woman who enjoyed telling naughty jokes. I want to remember her as the woman who loved animals. I want to remember her as a woman of flower pots, and bright colours. I want to remember her as the fantastic cook, she was. I want to remember her as a highly intelligent woman, who constantly surprised me with her great knowledge of all things, but especially nature. I want to remember her most of all, as my loving mother. Because that, beneath all her complexities, is who she really was.