Mothers

Growing up I created my own memories. It is only as I have grown and matured (slightly..) that I have become increasingly aware that I did this.

My first true memory is of sitting in my lounge and having the

'Mummy and Daddy don't love each other anymore'

conversation followed by the

'but we both still love you very, very much' one.

Before that? I guess I have a few very vague memories,

• Our only family holiday abroad, watching this magnificent sand sculpture being formed from what began as a messy lump on the beach,
• Opening a Walkman on Christmas Day and calling my Grandparents to announce that Santa had bought me an Allotment for Christmas..

and

• Falling asleep on the sofa whilst Mum worked nights and Dad let me stay up past bedtime..

This near enough sums it up. These are all I can remember. Well, truely remember anyway.

About 3 weeks ago Mum went to stay with her parents, when she returned she did not come alone. In her case were around 1000 photos of my childhood. 1000 memories I had completely forgotten I had. Not only were there memories in this box I had forgotten but there was proof in this box of the faulcity of the memories I had created.

Seeing these photos has confirmed to me what an incredible woman my Mother is.

(All of this is pretty gobledegook I know, basically, without getting all emotional and all that jazz in my head I had created this childhood of being 'Daddy's little girl' I had come to believe that him and I had this very special closeness, which don't get me wrong, I am sure we did (which incidently, we lost for a very long time, being why I think I created this memory - wow, this is deep!)

Suddenly I was jolted back to remember the way things actually were, you see, Mum and Dad had me when they were very young, younger than I am now. They had no money and with debts and bills and a child to care for, this left them struggling.

When my Mother and Father decided to divorce my Mum went to University, she got her degree, graduated and moved me to one of the most beautiful places in the UK.

I have gone from living in a 2 bed, terrace house on a main road in a busy city to living in a 4 bed detatched house with a swimming pool and magnificent views.

I am not writting this to be boastful, I am writting this to proud. Proud of the achievments my Mother has made with a bit of determination and love.

My Mother proves to me everyday that anything is possible.

And she is right, anything really is possible.