Dear Mum, here’s my final gift of gratitude

My remarkable mother Lucille passed away on the morning of her 71st wedding anniversary. I’d like to think she chose to go on that date, and that she is now dancing with my dad again. She was 93.

Her ending was pain-free — drifting in a morphine dream — and she died, quite simply, of old age. After a life well lived, it was about a good a death as it gets, and I’m so grateful for that. But I’ve been grateful for my mum and who she was for much longer than that. When I was thinking about what I wanted to say at her funeral, I realised I wanted to thank her, again.

I’m sharing my tribute as I hope it will inspire at least one reader to do what I did and write a gratitude letter and read it out to one or both of their parents (or any loved one).

Unless you are intentional about expressing your gratitude, all of a sudden, you’ll find it’s too late. I feel it’s particularly important in these unpredictable Covid times.

What follows is the eulogy I delivered at Mum’s funeral.

“They say that feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.

I learned this lesson 10 years ago, when I realised that there were people in my life — important people, who knew that I loved them, but didn’t know the reasons why.

The person on the top of my list was Mum.

So, I decided to give her the gift of gratitude.

I sat down and wrote her a gratitude letter. I knew from my research into the power of gratitude that the act of writing and sending the letter wasn’t going to be enough. The full benefit of increased wellbeing would only be felt by both of us if I read out the letter to her in person.

And so it was that I told Mum I was going to visit her in Swansea to read her a nice letter.

I’m sure she thought this was a bit strange — we didn’t really do that kind of thing in our family — but she indulged me all the same.

When the time came to read the letter, I felt surprisingly nervous. But I knew it was important, so I made a start.

I have the letter here, and I’m going to read it to you as I did to her that day 10 years ago.

We all go through life, with its ups and downs, presuming our family will always be there for us. In particular, we take our parents for granted. So, I want you to know that, even though I might have done so once upon a time, I certainly don’t take you for granted now.

I always feel grateful when I think of you and how energetic and full of life you still are at almost 83, and how you are still so curious about the world and want to keep learning. You are an inspiration to me.

Thank you for always being there for me, and for your instinctive wisdom and practical advice.

Thank you for putting up with me as a crying, screaming toddler — and I’m sorry I upset you so much!

Thank you for singing to me when I was little and instilling in me a love of music and song.

Thank you for encouraging such a shy child and allowing her to find her own way.

Thank you for not going out to work and always being there when I came home from school.

Thank you for giving me discipline and a strong sense of right and wrong.

Thank you for your great sense of humour, even though there were occasions when I didn’t get the joke — like the time you bought me a bra for Christmas when I was a flat-chested teenager who really didn’t need one!

Thank you for always making Christmas memorable for me when I was growing up. Thank you for all those roast dinners on a Sunday, especially the chicken!

Thank you for being a tower of strength when Daddy had his stroke, and for your years of fortitude while you were looking after him as well as the three of us.

Thank you for knowing what was best for me, even when I didn’t.

Thank you for never judging me.

Thank you for never interfering in my life and letting me make my own mistakes.

Thank you for being such a positive, fun-loving person.

Thank you for rising to every emotional challenge life has thrown at you.

Thank you for being such a caring person.

Thank you for being an amazing role model.

Thank you for being the strongest person I know.

Thank you for being my mother.

Your grateful daughter, Beverley.

Tears rolled down my cheeks the entire time I was reading out the letter, but Mum sat there, attentive but composed, which was totally in character. I’d rarely seen her cry.

But she looked pleased and proud and, once she’d made sure I was OK, thanked me as I presented her with the letter, rolled up.

I’d put money on the fact that she shed a tear once I had gone.

I’m so glad I got to speak these heartfelt words out loud and have her witness them. And now you have all witnessed them too.

She would later refer to the letter as her Certificate of Motherhood, so I have no doubt that we both benefited from this gift of gratitude.

And after that I never missed an opportunity to tell her I loved her, just as she always told me — especially over the past couple of years, when she needed my support more and more.

I treasured the time I spent with her after she moved to Amersham, drinking tea, eating lemon drizzle cake, watching her ‘boyfriend’ Alexander Armstrong on the TV, and dreaming about buying a big house in the country.

So today, my final act of gratitude to you, Mum, is to thank you for giving us the gift of your presence in our lives for so many years.

Thank you, Mum. Love you always. Your grateful daughter, Beverley.”

Don’t waste any time. Don’t let everyday life get in the way. Go write that letter and read it out to your loved one. You’ll be so grateful you gave them that gift of gratitude.

Postscript: When I published this blog last year, I received so many messages of support and affirmation — even from people I barely knew. One reader — a girl who went to my primary school — immediately wrote a gratitude letter and read it out to her 96-year-old father. That made my day — and many days afterwards. As I always say — if you can make a positive impact on one person, then your work as a writer is done.

Originally published at https://beverleyglick.com on October 7, 2020.