SIXTY
Sixty letters for sixty years.
LETTERS FOR MUM
For your sixtieth birthday, we wanted to give you something that couldn’t be bought, wrapped or ever replaced.
So we asked sixty people who love you to write to you. One letter for every year of your life. Family and friends, old and new, from near and far, each with something they’ve been wanting to tell you.
Some will make you laugh. Some will make you cry. Every word of them is true.
Read them slowly. Read them out of order. Come back to them whenever you need reminding of just how loved you are.
Love Mel
“Not everyone gets to grow up knowing, without a single doubt, that they’re loved. But I have.”
Dear Mum,
SIXTY! I don’t quite know how we’ve ended up here, because I’m fairly certain you’re still “just a girl”.
I’ve been trying to work out how to put into words just how much you mean to me, and the truth is, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do it properly. How do you possibly sum up a whole lifetime of being loved by someone like you?
I think one of my favourite things about us is that, despite living on opposite sides of the country now, we still talk every single day. Whether it’s a call when we’re driving, a FaceTime that goes on far longer than intended, a game or 3 of rummicub or just ringing to tell you something completely pointless, you’re always the person I want to tell. Although, let’s be honest, if I went a full 24 hours without calling you, you’d probably have a search party organised.
CONTINUED →
As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realised just how lucky I am to have you as my mum. Not everyone gets to grow up knowing, without a single doubt, that they’re loved. But I have. Every single day of my life.
You’ve loved me through every version of myself. The good ones, the difficult ones, the ones who thought they knew absolutely everything (well lets be honest, I still do), and the ones who really had no idea what they were doing. You’ve been there through all of it, and you’ve never once made me feel like I had to be anything other than myself to deserve your love.
And I think that’s one of the things I admire most about you.
You have this beautiful way of making people feel loved, cared for and important, without ever making a fuss about it. You’re gentle and kind, you’re funny, ridiculously creative, and you have the biggest heart. You give so much of yourself to the people around you, often without stopping to think about yourself.
I hope you know how much people notice that. How much I notice that.
I wish we lived closer. I wish I could pop around for a coffee, sit with you on the couch, or give you a hug whenever I wanted. I don’t think living so far away ever gets easier, but I’m so grateful that distance has never changed how close we are.
No matter how old I get, or where life takes me, you’re still my mum. The person I want to call when something wonderful happens, when something goes wrong, or when absolutely nothing has happened at all.
And I hope you know that if I turn out to be even half the woman you are, I’ll be doing pretty bloody well.
Happy 60th birthday, Mum.
I love you more than I could ever fit into a letter.
Love you always, Mel xxx
“I was so proud of you as you walked along the catwalk.”
When Vikki was 9 months old I fell pregnant with you. Apart from morning sickness the pregnancy was pretty uneventful. I can remember the day of your birth quite well. It was a Sunday and my mum (who lived at Thirroul) always cooked a baked dinner which we looked forward to. We arrived at their house at Thirroul and were going up the steps when my water broke. Needless to say I didn’t get my baked dinner that day. My mum and dad looked after Vikki while John and I went to Wollongong hospital where John said goodbye to me and off I went to the labour ward. You were born that night and I was delighted to have another baby girl. You did give us a scare after you were born though. Apparently you opened your bowels before you were born and that can be quite dangerous as you could have choked. We didn’t know about it at the time though. It is not very common.
CONTINUED →
I loved making clothes for you and Vikki. When you were about 3 I crocheted you a lovely little blue dress and entered you in a Miss Tiny Tots competition which you won. I was so proud of you as you walked along the catwalk.
Growing up, you and Vikki often had issues. You had to sleep on the bottom bunk as Vikki was on the top bunk because of asthma. You would kick her from the bottom bunk. Other times you would rush to the sliding door of the wardrobe when you knew she was going to get something. You would push door back on her side pretending you needed something at the same time from your side of wardrobe. You also did not like losing at board games. You would get up and say “I don’t want to play anymore” when you were losing.
When Scott arrived 6 years after you, you adored him. He was a real life doll and you loved playing with him.
You wanted to earn your own money when you saw Vikki get a casual job at Woolworths and even though you were only 14 you got one at Figtree in the only shoe shop. You have always excelled at whatever you do and you made us very proud. Allan Anderson, Accountant (no relation) and Jim Carter, Manager, both from Westpac were very impressed with your work ethic and attitude. I met both of them later in life and that is how I know.
We were overjoyed when you gave us two beautiful granddaughters who have grown into beautiful young women with the same wonderful talent for creating things as you have. Our whole family and many friends have been on the receiving end of your wonderful cooking and crafty items.
Michelle, dad and I were/are so proud of the woman you have become. It has not been easy for you but I have never heard you complain. You try and solve problems yourself before having to get someone else to do it. My prayer for you everyday is that God gives you His peace and power to cope with whatever life brings and you certainly do that. You have become a real handywoman doing plumbing, carpentry, horticulture, chef, craftswoman, and above all a wonderful friend to so many. Last of all I, as your mother, could not be more proud of you and I love you dearly.
xxx
