Tag Archives: Mother’s Day


Here is a simple idea to give HOPE to elderly parents who are quarantined because of the Coronavirus crisis:


It’s Mother’s Day tomorrow. Like probably millions of other people, I am unable to see my mother, who will turn 91 at the end of the month. Her care home (in Cape Town) is in lockdown. In just a few days I have seen her go from an incredibly lucid, interested person, to someone who is quite often anxious and confused – her response to stress.

I understand this need for isolation, and I also worry what health costs that will bring. And selfishly, I dread the idea of my Mum dying out in Africa without either being able to be with her, or at the very least, being able to see to her things and give her a good send off.

I remembered reading about an experiment where 2 groups of elderly people were given a plant for a year. The first group were told that they were responsible for looking after the plant and keeping it alive for the year. The second group were told that they needn’t do anything for the plant – someone else would care for it. Unsurprisingly, at the end of the year, the survival rate of plants in the first group was significantly higher than that of the second.

The validity of the trial was later questioned, but I figured it was worth a shot. So one of my friends kindly bought and delivered a spathiphyllum plant (pictured above), to my Mum, and I told her that she had to keep it alive until we were able to see each other again. I only discovered later that the common name for this plant is ‘Peace Plant’, and it is purported to help clean the air! So it feels doubly apt!

March 28, 1953

I wrote in my last blog, that in times of uncertainty, it is good to take action where we are able. Of course, my action brings no guarantee of keeping my mother alive, but I have seen firsthand what hope has done for her already. My parents were married for 64 years, and my father was my mother’s world.

60th Anniversary, 2013

When he died in December 2016, I watched dismayed as she turned from an incredibly mobile, mentally agile, positive ‘polyanna’ sort, who always saw the positive side of things, to a little old lady who was miserable, became almost immobile, and really wanted to die.

90th Birthday, 31 March 2019

Last March she turned 90, and I organised a lunch to celebrate. I filled my luggage weight with a large birthday fruit cake, booked our favourite restaurant overlooking the sea, and invited friends of widely varying ages.

View from the restaurant

My mother came alive again! Knowing there were people who still cared about her and having something fun to plan for, kickstarted her vitality. Her memory seemed to improve, her sense of fun returned, and even her physical mobility improved. Up til then, she had not wanted to go much further than a km from her care home. I took her away on holiday to a complicated house by the sea, where she found her way around, and even brought me breakfast in bed one morning! A year previously I had had to help her dress and had thought she would never make 90.

Funky 90 year old on holiday in Hermanus!

So don’t underestimate the power of HOPE! It is something we all desperately need a good dose of in these dark and difficult times. Do what you can to keep it alive for both yourself and your loved ones.

And feel free to share your stories of hope with me!




My parents, though British, have lived all my life in Africa. I am the divorced mother of an only daughter. Her father’s family have always got together at Christmas and celebrated lavishly. If I loved my daughter, it seemed obvious to let her spend Christmas Day with them, and I learned to hold the day lightly, and to celebrate whenever I was able to get together with what family I had here in the UK. But I also learned to dread the familiar question (as early as September) –‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

Today, having the gift of a daughter here, but a mother on the other side of the world, I have been aware both of the joy of having a child, and the sadness of those who do not have, or are not able to be, a mother; of those who have had a child but no longer are with them for whatever reason, for those who are not able to be with their mothers.

These days of supposed celebration, much touted by the media, are often for many, a reason to feel disenfranchised, on the periphery, lonely and not part of something which feels important.

Because I know that pain, I wanted to write something to let those people know that they are being thought of, and reached out to, even if only in writing.

My training in Alexander Technique taught me the importance of peripheral vision. On days like this, this translates for me into being aware of those of our friends and acquaintances who may be feeling isolated, and finding ways to connect with them.

As someone who faced the very real threat of losing a child in the process of divorce, I also wish to encourage everyone who knows of someone in that situation to do as much as they can for any parent (mother or father) to help them bear that excruciating loss, and further to help prevent it if at all possible.

I have been pondering what it means to be a mother:
• Motherhood is a lifelong commitment, whether one outlives one’s offspring or not
• It is a gift that demands one’s utmost – in creativity, resolve, patience, selflessness, energy, time, fierceness, and longevity of commitment.
• It is way of loving which transcends dislike, exhaustion, frustration and pain
• One can leave country, city, town, village, job, lover or husband, but for me the bond with my daughter is the one constant that it would be unthinkable or impossible to sever. Even as I write this, I am aware that for some, because of fear, illness, pain, or addiction, this may not be true, and the children of those mothers carry the excruciating pain of rejection – whether or not that rejection was deliberate or unconscious.

And those who have not been granted the gift of motherhood have to find other ways to express their creativity, resolve, patience, energy, time and commitment without the daily reminder that children offer. It is therefore a harder task, and I honour those who manage it.
So while I rejoice in this ‘Mothers’ Day, for what it is worth, I send love and good wishes to all those women for whom this day would otherwise be one of sadness, loss or isolation. And to those who have chosen otherwise, I wish them a very happy ‘in-Mothers’ Day!