Mothering Sunday in England today and I want to be reminded of mine, Blanche Apperley Gillam always known as 'Mitzi' (1910 - 1990). She hated the name Blanche and my father employed it on occasions to tease her; perhaps in retaliation for her calling him 'Flash' (because he was so ponderous). I wrote more about her on this day a couple of years ago here.
Me and my offspring in a ghostly faded studio pic by Olan Mills (how kitsch is that?) The big one is my husband. I wouldn't exactly call it a generic image of my joy and serenity as a mother because I was pretty bad tempered a lot of time, particularly when my sailor was away on the high seas. (For the first ten years practically all the time). The kids now remember with a mixture of amusement and horror a necklace made of yellow and black striped elastic - the iconography of the ejector seat handle in a military jet. If I put it on, it was the early warning system that they were standing into danger.
I am delighted to say that apart from some 'moments' the whole project of motherhood has been deeply satisfying and this lot, now in their thirties, are a constant source of pleasure and comfort. Ahhhh.
