What a fabulous weekend I had, it was all about me!
My husband is really the best. Mind you I am easily pleased - pressies and a flash lunch out are all undeniably fab, but the best bit was how much of an effort he made to give me solitude. Oh my god it was good. I finished nearly a whole book! In one weekend! And Seb painted me a heart, and Molly left me beautiful and well-chosen gifts and skyped her love, the dear creature.
But of course it's not all about me, is it - it's Mother's Day, and though I am one, I've also got one.
I'm so lucky: I've always adored my beautiful, gentle, unbearably thoughtful and generous and smart and giving Mutti. I've never felt any emotional separation from her, even when we've been far apart. Pippa and I are hers, and she's ours, and that's the way it always has been and always will be. How many children can say that, hand on heart? I love you so much, Mutti!
But till I held Molly and then Seb in my arms, I had no idea of what that felt like from the other side. The gleaming gold of it. The heft and strength, the fierceness of its roar in my heart. For eighteen years I have been that most privileged creature, a mothered mother. All the love in the world flowing through me and my mother and my children, swirling round, flowing back.
Thank you, Mutti. Thank you, Molly and Seb. Thank you, Liam, sine qua non. I love you all terribly, ridiculously much.
(But since it really has been all about me this weekend, here's something unusual, a picture of me too.)
