Just over two weeks ago, I lost my mum. It was a massive shock and at the moment it feels like I’ll never quite get over this. I know that time is a healer but at the moment it feels pretty tough, especially for my dad who has been by her side for the past 44 years. Luckily, I live close enough to dad to be staying with him a few times a week whilst we sort everything out, and this is the most time I’ve spent in my parent’s house since I moved out about 8 years ago. What I’ve noticed in this time is how important stationery was for mum. In the past when people asked me “why stationery?” I’ve always been a bit unsure, but now I totally see… Mum had different notebooks for everything, memo pads everywhere and several pen pots around the house, mostly full of pencils picked up from the galleries which she spent so much of her time in (as a side note, I discovered in her belongings that Dulwich Picture Gallery have their own branded Koh-I-Noor magic pencils – who knew?). So now next time someone asks me “Why Stationery?” I can answer “because of my mum”.

A few days after mum died, I noticed a folder next to her armchair and had a look inside. It turns out that mum had been keeping a page-per-year diary. I mean, she hadn’t been keeping it her whole life but I reckon she’d got it in the late 80s/early 90s and gone back and filled in everything she could remember from her life, including lots of notes in different pens, so I could see where she’d remembered a certain detail and gone back to fill it in.  I can’t tell you how much comfort I got from reading this. There was plenty of stuff in there that I did know, obviously, but there was also so much that I didn’t know, especially from her younger years. Like… That she met The Beatles! That her and my dad were signed up to an adoption agency when they got pregnant with my brother. That she spent some of her childhood in Great Ormond Street hospital. That my parents went travelling around Europe for 2 summers in the 70s… I could carry on and on but I’ll keep some stuff for myself…

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I think we’re probably all a bit guilty of forgetting that our parents had lives before we came along, and reading this made me realise just how alike mum and I are! But actually, that she had a much more interesting life than I do…

Anyway, I suppose what I’m really trying to say (in a slightly inarticulate way) is WRITE STUFF DOWN. Reading mum’s life, in her words and her handwriting, made me feel so much closer to her and has answered so many questions that I might have had later in life and I’m so so grateful to her for that.