Guest Post by Bec
Bec is an amazing friend and woman. She completed her PhD on nurses in the Korean War and currently lives in Australia.
It began with a BBQ chicken. Well, it began a few days before, but let’s start with the chicken. I was standing in my Mum’s kitchen. Family friends gathered in the backyard waiting for lunch and I was confronted with the chicken, or more precisely the responsibility of slicing the chicken. Mum had always done this.
The author on her wedding day with her mother.
All my life, I’d watched her neatly separate the pieces, portion out the stuffing, and dish the chicken on to each plate.
Now, Mum was gone, I was left to cut the chicken and despite watching her all those years I really had no idea how to do it. I knew it was ridiculous, but in that moment, only a few days after she died, I found that responsibility overwhelming. It was the culmination of a realisation that had begun in the hospital, that I was now the adult and I no longer had my Mum around to guide me.
In many ways the death of my Mum signalled the birth of my adulthood. Although I was 28, married, had just submitted a PhD and had been living out of home for a few years I hadn’t really felt like an adult until I lost my Mum.