Apple Crumble, Mothers & Birthdays

Dear Ma

Today, on your birthday, I thought about how much you mean to me.

Ma, do you remember our first trip to London all those years ago when air travel was a privilege? When going abroad was a status symbol? Travelling on Pappa‘s travel passes was a luxury, wasn’t it?

Ma, you never expressed your desires, it was always us before you. Your needs, simmering away on the back burner. So that day in the spring of 1998 when we stepped out onto the busy streets of London, the air around us was heaving with excitement and joy. We couldn’t wait to begin exploring this historical city of which we had read and heard so much.

After a two hour walking tour, we stopped by at a café for a quick bite and a hot drink. “oh there’s apple crumble!” you said, reading the menu written out in neat handwriting using white chalk on a blackboard. Your eyes reflected the sugary glaze that often accompanies baked goodies. You then told us how you had read about this dessert in Enid Blyton books, your voice taking on the excitement of a child. “I want some!” you exclaimed. 

And then you did something that you normally wouldn’t do. Perhaps, would never do! You called out to the waitress and in your most clear and articulate tone you said “could I have a portion of the apple crumble please?” “Of course” smiled the waitress and went on to ask the rest of us what we would like to order.

Ma, that was not you just asking for some apple crumble. It was you in a foreign country expressing your desires so simply yet courageously. It was you stepping out of your comfort zone. It was you breaking the strict gender norms that you were conditioned to follow.

So for me, your daughter, apple crumble will always be more than a yummy treat. It will remind me to look after myself. It will encourage me to focus on not just my needs but also my wants. It will reinforce in me the importance of self care and pleasure. And most importantly it will help me do all of this without experiencing feelings of shame or guilt.

Love always,

Sne