Today I am thinking of my mum and the unique specimen that she is. She is a form of super-mum and made of different stuff from most.
In summary, she a) is nicely balanced and b) manages life extraordinarily well.
Mum is a master at both, even during her saddest times when Dad passed away. She says it is due to her strict Victorian upbringing, her stiff upper lip and no-nonsense attitude.
So recently, when I instigated a menopausal chat, I was not surprised to learn that she had sailed right through it, stiff upper lip and all. And that is where our menopausal conversation ended – as quickly as it had begun.
It was a shame, as I had hoped it would bond us in a way that it does for some mothers and daughters. But I soon remembered that Mum and I bond anyway and felt considerably less fussed.
I think that knowing about your mum’s menopause and her coping strategies can be a useful exercise – unless she sailed right through it, in which case it is not.
It did, however, make me think that life is generally easier with a stiff upper lip. I wish I had a stiff upper lip. I just got a hairy one, which has been of no use at all.
And it got me thinking about how much more like Dad I am. Not only in my looks but my emotions too. Whilst Dad was a strong and solid man, he was softer than Mum and more emotional. And if dads were to have the menopause, I think he would have been one to feel it.
I miss him and would be beyond happy if he were to walk through the door. I know that is not going to happen, but I do allow myself to wish it.
Then we could have hugged and chatted ‘menopause’.
J x
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