I can’t even begin to count how many emails and cards I’ve started with those two words over the years, probably thousands, but I know you’ve saved each and every one.
This Mother’s Day, I just wanted to say thank you.
Thank you for the big things and the small things, even the seemingly inconsequential things, like sharing your mandarin with me in the car yesterday.
Thank you for 32 years of love, hugs, laughter and support; for encouraging me to chase my dreams, however big and small.
For cheering me on as I moved overseas and coming to the airport each time I left, even though saying goodbye was awful.
Thank you for all the times you talked to me as I walked home in the dark on the other side of the world; for sending care packages the likes of which no one had ever seen before; and for making sure I still had all the latest pretties from Witchery.
For giving up your European holiday so that I could go to Gallipoli, Running of the Bulls, La Tomatina and Croatia.
Thank you for holding my hand while I learned to walk, my hair when I was vomiting from food poisoning and every single thing I’ve ever passed you with the words ‘mum, can you hold this?’. For driving me around and for putting up with me when I drive you to distraction (so frequently it’s not worth counting!).
You helped me move into my first apartment, and now to move out of it, just weeks before you’ll have to move out of your own house. You fostered my love of flowers, of fashion and of travel; often all at the same time.
Thank you for the holidays we’ve spent together; days spent wandering the shores of Lake Como, the wandering lanes of Capri and the hills of Gwinganna. For road trips through Perth, ferry trips in Sydney and gondola rides in Venice. And four-hour road trips which stretched out to five because I made you stop so many times so I could take photos.
You showed me the world and encouraged me to make it mine, even when it meant skipping the end of a family holiday, leaving you with Dad and Michael as your shopping companions!
Thank you for wiping away the tears; for picking me up and putting me back together each time my heart has been broken and for washing my hair when I was too grief-stricken to do it myself. For long nights spent listening to music, long days sitting in the sunshine and re-watching the same movies over and over again.
And, of course, for the laughter. The silly jokes, the funny one-liners and the look you give me every time I flop on a bed you’ve just made.
Thank you for teaching me to be what I hope is a good woman, an amazing friend and someday, an incredible mum. I’m learning from one of the best.