This is a homage to my late mother, who really straggled to bring me and my brother up, born in Dublin into a large family (she had 9 brothers and sisters) she could hardly read or write when she left school, so ended up being a cook (not chief) working up to running a large kitchen serving over 300 covers, she achieved this from working extremely hard all her life.
Because of the long hours she worked sometimes she was not there for us working late and weekends, she even worked over Christmas which she would work to get extra pay for presents me and my brother (feel guilty about that), but she worked and worked to get us everything she could.
You did not mess with her even though small, I remember being in a bus queue waiting for a bus (I was 8-10 at the time) & two 18 year lads jumped the queue to get on the bus, she grabbed them by the shirts pulled them off the bus and said to them “what would your mother say” to which they just turned round and walked to the back of the queue.
I know I was not the best son getting into fights, skipping school & generally getting trouble, but the only time I remember getting really angry with me was when me and my best mate James Doyle (we where about 9 or 10) went to the Thames bank when the tide was out thinking it looked like a sandy beach only to find ourselves sinking into it and getting stack in it, we were both covered, she absolutely hit the roof.
I really miss her and sometimes regret not having taken an image of her, but know she would have hated me doing it so maybe that is how it should have been, but I do have an image of before she was married which I keep in my wallet, so I remind myself of her and keep her close to my heart.
Happy Mother’s Day