Mummy

My Mum is going in for surgery on her thyroid on Tuesday. It’s the second operation- this one will result in her entire thyroid being removed. And while this operation is happening to HER, and she’s just as brave & chipper as ever, I’m completely freaked.

It’s a routine operation, and the chances of anything going wrong (despite there being quite a few things that could go wrong), I can’t help being scared.

Because she’s my Mum. She may have given birth to me over 25 years ago, and I may have left home almost 4 and a half years ago, but she’s still my ‘Mummy’. I still talk to her on the phone multiple times a week, she is still one of (if not the first) the first people I want to tell anything good or bad to, she is still whom I go to for comfort. When I argue or fight with Jeff, the unhappy little girl inside of me still screams “I want my Mummy!”. I might be 25, I might have moved out, but I still haven’t cut the ‘apron strings’- my mum is, without a doubt, the most important person in my world, because she is the person who has always been there for me, since even before the first moment of my life. She has been there for me, for everything. She is still a major influence on me, and still the person whose support, encouragement and praise means the most to me. My mother is my role model, my hero, my guide, my champion. And so, she is always my ‘Mummy’- the one I still rely on, as much as I am trying to rely on myself, to be there for me, to make everything better.

And so I’m terrified. Because, right now, I want to be there for her, and I want to help her through this as much as I can. She’s going out to my sister & her bf to recuperate, and I’ll take care of Dad, so he can’t worry her. Before then, I’ll make sure she’s happy in the hospital & that she has plenty for herself there & also that Dad’s ok, I’ll even send them home with food on Sunday so she doesn’t have to cook in advance. In short, I’ll try to do everything I can- everything except for be there when it happens, take her place.

Because I would if I could- because this is the woman who gave me life. And if I could give my life, part of me, to make her healthy- I would. And not only because, as the person who gave me life, I feel that I owe her the same- that, if in my hands, I should give her that gift. But because I would WANT to- because I can’t think of someone more deserving, more special.

And so, while I’d willingly lie on that table, let Drs take my thyroid if it would make hers work, I am still terrified. Because it is still my “Mummy”, my Mum who is going to be going through this, something that has the potential to take her away from me- forever.

I know that, one day, that will happen. That my mum will no longer be here with me, and that day & the ones that follow will be the hardest & darkest I ever go through. And though I’m not sure if I’ll ever be ready for it, there is no way I could deal with it now. Jeff is always saying he’ll take care of me, if things happen, he’ll pick up the pieces. But I think, if something happened, now, there would be so many pieces I don’t think we’d even be able to find them all. Maybe that’s melodramatic, but that’s how I feel. Because, in truth, my Mum IS so many of those pieces. So much of who I am, is influenced by her, shaped by her, guided by her. So much of who I am, my strength, comes from her love and support. And without all of that, I’m not sure if I’d be anything more than a shell of “Jo” for a very long time.

And so, last night, even though I know how small the risks are, even though it’s not me going through it, last night after I got my Mum’s email, I curled up in Jeff’s arms & I cried. I cried because of how suddenly this is happening, even though we’ve known she needed surgery for months. I cried because of how much I love her, and how scared I am for her. I cried because of how scared I was for me, and because my “Mummy” wasn’t there to fix it. Because, even though Jeff was there, holding me, I still wanted my “Mummy”- my Mummy to tell me that everything was going to be alright, that she would come through fine, my Mummy to hug & to hold me. Because, that little girl inside of me, she still believes her Mummy can fix anything, and so she wanted her for reassurance & love. And that little girl cried because couldn’t have what she wanted, her Mummy, right there, right then.

Instead, all I can do, as the woman that my mother raised me to be, instead of the frightened little girl, is give her all the support I can, see as much of her as possible before and after, let her know, just in case anything happens, how much I love & treasure her. So, if anything happens, I will know that we at least had that time together, that she knows how much she means to me.

And if I need to cry more, I’ll cry in private. Because although I still need my “Mummy”, although the apron strings have not yet been cut, I know better than to be so selfish as to take comfort, to demand reassurance, from the person who is undergoing this all.

Because love is about being unselfish- and that’s a lesson “Mummy” taught me a long time ago.

*note: I should have posted this on Friday, but it was one of those weekends... although I got to spend a lot of time with Mum, which was great :)