Love It

 Monday 10th October 1983 at 7am, I got on an Ansett flight to Kalgoorlie with 3 suitcases. Alone. Age 17. Not knowing what I was going to, but knowing I didn't couldn't stay where I was. One parent was trying to instill fear of the flight; her fear of being alone, of having a child fail at life, of where the child would be.  She even had a fear of my address being in a street called Nemesis. One parent told me I would always be ok, to go and live my life, and that I was loved. One grandma smiling silently and nodding as I was now in a career path she had followed over 60 years earlier in the Post Office. I never rose to the dizzying heights of Post Mistress that she reached, but she was proud. My first plane flight. My first room in a house not with my parents. My first experience living with others. So many firsts all hit in that one day and the weeks ahead. I tried to work out who I was as all I had done was care for others from the youngest age, and to people please to keep

 For the first time this year on Mother's Day I'm the top of the food chain. I'm no longer a daughter, but I am a mother and a grandmother. What a shift in dynamics!  All my life I dreaded Mother's Day. It was Judgement Day in my mind. The day where no matter what I did, had done, or promised to do was not going to be good enough. My faults would be identified and glorified and my redeeming qualities paled into insignificance. The stress levels would rise to obscene levels and I felt physically ill. When I was younger I would attempt to outdo my previous years efforts in generosity. No point. I would over-organise and plan and create. No point.  The years between when my grandmother died and this year were the hardest. Grandma was the most appreciative woman and any efforts were highly rewarded and acknowledged. Her loss was huge not just to me, but I think to everyone who knew her. Even three decades later, people still say she was a star. So this year, I'm the old