A Story for Mum and Sean

Today is the last day of 31 for 31. I loved this experience to help me get back into the enjoyment of writing. I must admit it's been challenging at times, so it will be a relief to not have to post each day. Thank you to everyone who has been reading and sending kind words. I infinitely appreciate your support.

Two people who have been extremely dedicated throughout this process and for which this blog is named after is my Mum and stepdad, Sean. Sometimes I tell embarrassing stories or somewhat shameful ones as, let's admit, they are hilarious. They have been dragged through the mud alongside myself on here and never once batted an eye. In fact, they usually add to the story or private message me praise for the retelling of one of their moments.

The truth is, Mum and Sean have taught me to see life's ridiculous twists and turns as no more than good stories. My ability to storytell comes from a lifetime of hearing their stories. So here's one for each of them. Not an embarrassing one, but one filled with love.

A story for Mum:

I was a brat as a child. Spoiled but super cute - a wicked combination. My mother was an outlet for my cheekiness. In one particular temper tantrum, I destroyed my room (I was about 5) and ripped out every Kleenex from the box and scattered them around my room. We're talking a huge box, Hungarian women buy in bulk. There was not one empty space free from tissue. I remember my Mum just waiting for me to be done my crazy fit to come in my room, hold me while I cried, then told me to calm down. She then helped me pick up every tissue and carefully shove them back into the box without saying a word. No yelling or frustration, just the understanding of the overwhelming nature of life as a five year old. Her endless kindness and consideration for me had her separate the peas and carrots from my fried rice because I hated them, always have a spare peanut butter sandwich in her purse if I didn't like the food being served at someone's house, learning songs from my favourite artists so we could dance in the living room to them, always make sure my favourite eyeliner is stocked in the house in case I run out, and have her use every bit of self-restraint in her to not comment on each post I make and instead private message me with heartfelt praise.

The older I get the more I realise I'm turning out exactly like my mum and that this something to celebrate.

A story for Sean:

Sean has always described me as cat-like. Perhaps it's the sleeping in sun beams, constant badgering around feeding times, and desire to be as close to people on the couch as possible. This general laziness toward life allowed me to form a deep bond with our family cat, Strawberry. When Sean came into our family, Strawbs was a feral beast. He attacked me when I moved too quickly in the house, he scratched things up and he hated human company. Within a few weeks of Sean living with us, Strawbs became a new animal. A born-again pet. He was calm, cuddly, and considerate (he never suffocated me when he slept on my pillows.)

I liken Strawbs transformation to my own. I was somewhat feral as a child (see above temper tantrum) then Sean came into our lives and mellowed me out.
When I was young, it was hard to get me to do things I didn't want to do. The way Sean got through to me is he started writing little notes to me from my favourite stuffed animal, Pinkball. He even wrote some letters or words backwards so I would believe it was truly my bear. Pinkball would ask how my day at school was or pose reading a book to inspire me to read. The amount of effort it took was remarkable. As a teacher of young children now, I'm not even sure I would have that level commitment to a small child's interest. It motivated me to do all the things I didn't want to in the most gentlest and sweetest way.

I remember asking him if he had ever wanted children of his own and he said, you are my daughter. I believe him whole-heartedly. He showed it every time he read me bedtime stories doing all the different voices, or when he learned the Spice Girl moves to Stop Right Now to be one of my back up dancers, or when he used endless patience to explain finances to me so that I could be a financially independent woman, or when I had disappeared for a night with a jerk boyfriend, he scooped me up in his arms and told me he loved me forever and was just glad I was back home.




How lucky I am to have been shaped by two such amazing people. How sad it is that they are so far away from me. But I carry their hearts; I carry them in my heart.




Endless thank yous and I will try to keep posting more regularly.
x
Katie