Whether they’re here or there, near or far, our mums mean the world to us.
I hope it’s nice and warm where my Mammy is now though not too hot because she was a proper wee divil.
Some of my earliest holiday memories and pics are of Teasy (a lifelong pet derivative of Teresa) are of her sunning herself on a beach.
We would follow the summer herd down to the Costas and the Balearic Islands.
Brown-eyed girl
And Teasy, blessed with the swarthy complexion of the Donegal Black Irish, said to be descended from Spanish Armada wayfarers, got brown as a berry.
If Teasy had her way she would gladly have taken multiple trips to the sun but mothering duties would restrict her.
One year though she managed to slip in an extra Easter trip, to Ibiza, with myself and my brother.
Which she dressed up as a fact-finding expedition because we all returned in the summer.
Kids clubs in our day
Our children today despair, like every generation, of hearing how they have it so much better.
And certainly kids growing up in the Seventies would be expected to find their own entertainment.
With kids clubs involving party games like pass the parcel which gave me the chance to give something back.
A purple mermaid ladies comb which would go on to take pride of place on her dressing table.
Combing through history
It’s funny what memories come flooding back and for those who are still making them never stop.
Of course, these days every moment can be captured for posterity with the click of a mobile phone.
Whereas photographic or cine camera equipment would have to be set up in advance.
Which might explain why those pictures aren’t model selfie like they are today.
Captured in time
But which do have the sense of occasion.
Those photographs are back out today and for a flicker we’re together back in that moment, in that place.
Not that they ever really leave us, Mothering Sunday or any day.
Because our mums mean the world to us.
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