My mum is intensely private. I’m not sure if it’s because she is middle child of 12 children, or Irish, or of a different generation or simply because she is so independent that she hasn’t felt the need to share. Whatever the cause, I do know that she isn’t comfortable in the spotlight. I can only imagine how mortifying it has been for her to have me as a daughter. My mum is a master of deflecting conversation, I over-babble. Only those who can read deftly between the lines can even begin to know what my mum is feeling, I will share my greatest fear in relationships with the guy beside me on the plane.
My mum says she is happy for me to continue writing this blog but would like me to only include the parts of her journey that affect me. Of course everything about my mum and every part of what she is going through has a huge, unimaginably huge impact on me. I would write it all, but it doesn’t take much reading between lines to know thats not what she wanted.
If I don’t mention my mum in future posts it isn’t because I am not affected, it is quite the opposite, me not mentioning my mum is because I really love her.