There was a day...

We did this lesson on Monday night.

I asked each family member to recall a favourite/special memory with their mother
{me and the Mr included}

*crickets chirping*

hmmm ....  well  ....  ummmm  ..... at first no one could come up with ANYTHING!

My heart literally dropped.

I started to scan my own memories so I could provide some prompts so they could recall all the amazing tender moments we've had together.

except I couldn't really come up with much either.

oh my goodness.

I thought:
I know I'm a good mum.
I know I serve these darling children daily.
I know I have provided them with wonderful life experiences.
I know I try really hard!


BUT could I THINK of individual life defining moments with each of them {and with my own mother} for an example?!?

No. I was devastated.

Surely I'm NOT wasting my time, why bother if no one can remember anything!?!

I used to the gap to extoll the virtues of keeping a journal because apparently we all obviously have BAD MEMORIES! {That's it you will keep a journal and read it weekly to remind you what a wonderful life you have!!! - I didn't really say that}

A child did kindly pipe up that everyday was a wonderful time with mum and that I did nice things all the time for them {bless her heart}. After thinking really really hard we did come up with a few nice memories. BUT it was sooo hard.

I was devastated.

But as with anytime we hear reality pierce our hearts, the pin prick of pain is there to remind us.

Remind us to try harder, fix what's wrong, that sadness can be turned into happiness.

So I'm trolling my journals and this here blog to find those moments.
I'm going to try  harder to spend an individual time with each child weekly.
{and perhaps verbally remind them of how special it is so they remember}
I'm going to recall family moments more and share stories so they become our family narrative.
I'll try harder to write the seemingly simple moments down.

Maybe life is made up of tiny moments that don't recall as anything special but accumulate to form a mass so special its hard to describe/pinpoint. Maybe everyday IS wonderful with mum in a loving family. As sad as it may seem maybe their aren't very many life defining moments that can be attributed to me as a mother to make me feel better about myself.

Maybe EVERYDAY counts. And as time goes on we can't put our finger on the EXACT DAY.

Just the fact that there was a day.

There was a day. Many days. Where my mum loved me and I loved her.