Rosina Gladys Taylor
(30 January 1924 - 4 June 2004)
Three years ago this morning I was woken up by the telephone ringing. It was a phone call I had been expecting - but dreading. The Hospice was ringing to tell me my Mum had passed away at 5.30 that morning.
Six months previously, Mum had been diagnosed with lung cancer even though she had given up smoking more than 20 years previously. By the time she finally relented and had gone to see a doctor (she was very proud to have not seen a doctor for probably ten years or more, despite our pleadings!) the cancer had spread to her liver. She was given a short round of radiation therapy which slowed the insidious growth but didn't stop it.
Mum may have lost her physical battle but her memory stills lives on.
Three months before she died, Mum was so proud to have been able to hold her very first grandchild. That day brought much pleasure to her as she had been so proud of all four of her grandchildren as well as her two daughters.
As our children were growing up, Mum had been such a help to us. We lived just around the corner from my parents so our two eldest were able to see Mum often. On their way home from school these two would call in to see her nearly every day. I would get a phone call to say "Mum, we're at Grandma's. Can we stay a while, please?". Mum would toast the sandwiches from their lunches (which were never eaten at lunchtime) before giving them a "white thing" (an icecream - my son didn't like coming right out to ask for something. He would sidle up to Grandma and ask "Grandma, could we have a white thing?" When our youngest boy was a little older his brother would always get him to do the asking!) The ice cream would come out of the freezer and the cones from the cupboard. Cake decorating lollies would always be sprinkled on the top for them.
Before our youngest went to school we moved 30 minutes out of town. Mum and Dad would come down for a day most weekends to spend time with us all. She often did my ironing (one of my least favourite chores) while she was there. Mum also enjoyed walking around the few acres we had, looking at anything new we had done and just soaking up the peace and quiet of the place.
Not long before she died, we moved once again - same town but off the land we had. Mum was never well enough to see this house but I think she would have approved.
Mum had always supported me in the various crafts I tried out over the years. It was her who first taught me to knit when I was about seven and I made a pair of slippers for a Brownie badge (I may have been younger when I first learned but this was the first item I made). When I wanted to attempt knitting a jersey Mum helped me choose the wool and pattern from the shop. She knitted the front and sleeves while I knitted the back. It actually turned out well and I wore that jersey quite a lot.
Mum wouldn't teach me to crochet, however! She didn't like it, I think, so I had to learn from a book. Many years later, she bought me a loom when I wanted to weave. I still have this loom now, even though I seldom use it.
She was proud of my spinning, also, especially when I knitted her a shawl from my handspun yarn. That shawl kept her warm and cosy while she sat up in bed when she finally became bedridden. I have that shawl now and I love to hug it to me and feel that Mum is a little closer once again.
Over the years, Mum had done so much to help us out. In my heart, I have named our house partly after her (one day a name-plaque will be put up to make it official!). And, in case anyone has wondered in the past where the name of my blog has come from, now you know!
Mum, this post is dedicated to your memory. I love you and miss you so much.