An open letter to our Jan.

To My Mum,

Well where do I start? I’m not really the affectionate type at all really am I?

I seriously cannot explain how blessed I am to have a mum like you, and I am so proud to call you my mum.

We are all aware I am your favourite child. I know sometimes you find it hard living with the reality you favour one of your children far more than the other, but as I am that favourite I feel you’re doing a fantastic job and I’m sure my brother doesn’t mind.

You’ve shown me exactly what unconditional love is, even when I was a brat (which has been half my existence). Now that I am older, I’ve realised you’ve done a lot of things for good reason and I appreciate all the times when I thought you were nagging at me, were actually done in good faith.

I no longer take for granted everything you do for me, so here’s a quick thank you just for you.

I remember when I was younger, and you would teach me your knowledge of life – you had loads. You were my first teacher and never got bored of repeating things over and over again just so I could succeed.

I remember when we’d take long car journeys to Bournemouth or The Cotswolds to visit Grandma and Grandad, long before iPads were around and we’d spend the whole journey singing along to songs you were eagerly ready to teach me. 6 hours of singing, storytelling and driving mum, looking back I have no idea how you kept your sanity.

The mornings before school, and we’d get ready in front of the fire you were the one that’d make sure my shirt sleeve wasn’t bunched up into my jumper, you know how much I hated that. Then we’d hop into the car and you’d let me pull the handbrake down.

It’s the little things mum, the things I’ll always treasure.

Before and after school I’d go to ‘big fun club’ the only thing fun about that place was you picking me up afterwards, but now looking back I know how long and hard you were working just so I could get everything I ever wanted.

We’d then go home, and you’d make me tea. I was always the fussiest eater, never touching anything but chicken nuggets shaped in a wheel with ketchup squirted in the middle. Soon it’d be time for bed. You’d tell the best stories – never out of a book mum, your imagination is amazing. I’d normally fall asleep on the sofa because I didn’t want to miss out on anything you were doing and you’d carry me up to my bedroom.

Then it went to me joining high school, I guess this is where our relationship was tested for a while. I had hormones galore and I was CONVINCED “you didn’t understand me”. My god mum, I now know you understood everything.

I honestly can’t believe how you have become my closest friend, if someone told me how close we would become 6 years ago I probably would have laughed in their face. I trust you with every little secret possible – even when it’s not mine to tell. You are a classy fucking woman and I hope if I am ever blessed with children they’ll idolise me just like I idolise you.

I’m older now though mum, and it’s obvious I appreciate you a lot more now than I ever have before. I appreciate the random what’s app photos of you on your bike journeys, the 5pm phone call we always have, you telling me all about your plans with ‘the girls’, you constantly being the one to listen and offer advice on subjects you really shouldn’t care less about, or just you constantly ringing me by accident all day whilst we are both at work.

I look back now, and realise I am only who I am because of you. I’m strong, but realise it is OK to cry sometimes. You’ve taught me to never give up in this crazy little world, and that I’m worth a lot more than sometimes I have received.

You’ve made me believe in myself, and my abilities.

You’ve been the most structured person in my life, and I know you’ve got me through the tough times even when I couldn’t see an end.

You’ve been my rock through all my life decisions, heartaches with boys that didn’t mean shit, and also cheered through all my exciting new adventures.

I know now I’m older I don’t see you much, but please know the times I do see you are the absolute best. Please know that even though I don’t live at home, if I am ever upset or lost in this world I know your door and arms will be wide open ready to comfort and help me pick up the pieces.

I have lists of memories, and trillions of thank you’s I could be throwing your way. But, just know that I’m so thankful to have a mum like you, who has guided me into this woman of perfection I am today.

Love, you’re daughter!

Lizi XX

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