Behind the Blog,  Books

Behind The Blog #2 – Looking at the Parents

Behind the Blog is a meme to help bloggers connect their life and interests to the content showcased on their blog. The co-hosts, Faye, Kathe, and Melissa will provide a different topic, idea, or question every week that bloggers can relate to themselves and the books, films, or other media they find interesting!
This week, because of the recent celebration of Mother’s Day, we’re looking at parents. Be free with it: Maybe write a good memory you have with them. Or ponder something like: How did your parents affect your life? What do you feel about other people’s parents? What’s it like being a parent yourself? Take it and make it your own!

For my post this week, I’ve decided that I’m going to tell you a little bit about my mother. And the first thing I will admit is that I love her, and she is basically the best thing in my life, period. She is, without a doubt and without any other way of describing her; my rock. Whenever I have a problem, she’s the first person I turn to. Whenever I just need someone to chat to or to take life’s troubles away, she’s always there, just a phone call away. She would drive to come to my rescue if it called for it and she would do it all without blinking an eye. She keeps me stable when I feel like I’m about to fall apart and there is just no one else on earth that I love more than her. Therefore, it was not rocket science to decide that I needed to dedicate a post to her.
Even with how much I love my mum, I never truly appreciated her as I was growing up. Yes, I loved her and I liked having her around but as a teenager she was always just there and I was always just waiting to get away and spend time with my friends, outside of the house. I was ready to be independent. I wanted to just do things on my own without being coddled every time I came in the house. So, when I went away on a gap year at eighteen, I was happy to finally be free. And I really enjoyed my time away, I loved being independent and looking after myself and growing up and I realised that I was good at it all because she taught me how to be that way. She taught me how to cook, how to clean, how to look after myself and a lot of my character today is just because of her. Saying all of that, however, even being across the pond, I still didn’t felt that I needed her. I was growing, I was being independent, and I certainly didn’t need my mum around.
I survived my gap year and when I came home, it felt odd to be at her house again, under her eye and having to ask permission to do things, or tell her where I was going to be everyday. It didn’t feel right. Then I went to my first year of university and again, I was fine on my own. I was ready for the world; I had done this before. And that year passed with barely any problems and I managed it and I lived to tell the tale. Then came second year, things got tougher, I was suddenly organizing all the bills and rent and living in close quarters with three friends who just didn’t live the same way I was used to. Everything was different and unsure and I quickly found myself searching for my mum, calling her when I could to get her opinion on things or just to talk and see how things were going. It was this year that I first started to feel homesick and I ended up driving home more often than not, craving to spend time with my mum. I learnt how much she meant to me, I saw how much she did for me and I knew that she was the greatest person in the world.
Third year got harder still, especially in December when things took a turn for the worse and our house got burgled. They came into my room and stole my laptop. That would have been bad enough, but then it was the not being able to sleep, even after I had quadrople checked the door was locked, of the nightmares that awoke me in the middle of the night, my heart beat racing as I glanced at the backdoor to make sure it really was shut. I jumped at silly noises in the house that I barely paid any attention to before, and I just became scared and fragile. Then, there was my mum. Who picked up the pieces of me, talked me through things, helped me to get back on my feet. And that was when we got the scare. The ‘is-it-cancer’ scare and my heart literally broke. I found myself thinking about life without her and I broke down at the thought. It became unbearable to hear other people’s “small problems” when I was worried that my mum wasn’t going to be around much longer. I quickly learnt to appreciate her more. I told her I loved her more than I used to, and I just made sure to show her how much she meant to me.
That scare was just a scare, my mum is perfectly healthy (you-know, minus the menopause and forgetfulness) and I couldn’t be more thankful. There are still times when I crawl into a deep dark hole when I think about life without my mum in it. I get upset when I hear others talk about their mums who have passed or aren’t well and I want to comfort them, to tell them that I understand, even if it’s never happened to me. I am an independent woman. I am strong. But I am these things because of my mother. She raised me to be these things. I also know that it is still possible to be independent while going to your parents for advice. They’re there for you. They only ever want success for you and my mum has never been anything but proud of me. She pushes me on when I’m slacking and builds me up when I’m down. She is my rock and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

So, now, to relate all of this back to books, somehow, I’m going to talk about some of my favourite parents in some of the books I’ve read.

  • Lucas by Kevin Brooks; I love Caitlin’s dad. He is a writer, but he also encourages her to be a writer herself. He helps her to sort out her emotions and her story and is just there for her when she needs him. I found him to be an inspiration.
  • Harry Potter Series by J. K. Rowling; I adore Mr and Mrs Weasley. They are just the best parents. The perfect mix of strict (Mrs) and laid back (Mr) and they brought up an amazing family while still happy to open up their family to others (Harry and Hermione) and I know that one day, I’d be proud to be like them.
  • Keeping Faith by Jodi Picoult: There is no doubt in my mind that Mariah is a brilliant mum. She is so protective of Faith, she only wants to look after her and make her life the best it can be. It is so inspiring and you can just tell that things are going to be perfect for them both.

There we have it! I was going to add Films into this as well but my brain is quickly diminishing and I can’t, for the life of me, think of any good parental role models in films at the moment. I’m sure that this will change and I may edit my post a bit later on, but for now, I’m just going to leave this bit blank.
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