Je Ne Regrette Rien: Ode to Mama
Full disclaimer: I needed some AI assistance to craft this poem for Mum, because had I written everything in my heart, it would have gone on endlessly and emotionally. Being so close to her and missing her so much, every day, I needed help organizing her life’s greatest hits into something you could actually finish reading!
Today is Mother's Day in the UK, and your birthday too, dear Mama.
You would have been 81, sparkling fiercely,
Six months since you decided
This life's limits weren't enough for you,
Off to chase new fun, freer worlds,
Your spirit forever bold and true.
Each morning, your face greets me in my mirror—
Laughter lines, eyes mischievous with twinkle,
Your fearless smile echoes in mine,
Bad teeth be damned, contagious joy that shined.
I touch your St. Christopher around my neck,
Asking, "What would you do, Mum?"
Answers come quickly, unapologetically brave,
Your "Be kind to people" mantra guides the way.
Mama, you were a collector of souls,
On buses, supermarket queues, distant lands—
A nurse from Uzbekistan, Yacine from passport control,
Your charm bracelets jingled with lives you touched.
Now I've luckily inherited your habit,
Sorry baristas, I'm coming your way,
With endless curiosity, conversations, delight.
You loved your Royals fiercely,
Yet Meghan Markle earned your passionate ire,
The Daily Mail's loss immense,
A void unfillable, your spirited fire.
Your green thumb painted gardens,
Tiny balconies blooming,
Your colorful magic in each flower,
Though I lack patience, your spirit lives on
In hubby’s greenhouse, strawberries and rhubarb flourish—right where you once sat soaking up the sun.
Your gardens bloomed as beautifully as your friendships,
Friends young and old, toasting life's adventures with glasses of rosé,
Rooted deeply in love and laughter, following you joyfully.
They say the true measure of a person is their friends,
And inspired by your radiant example,
I've cultivated my own amazing tribe,
Forever grateful for the bonds and memories shared.
Travel was your heartbeat, Bhutan, Cuba, India, Iran—
Each country embraced you back,
Friendships spun across oceans,
Leather-bound volumes, adventures captured,
My passport pages filling,
Travel bug deeply planted,
Discovering new worlds,
Just as you taught me.
You lived fiercely, giving endlessly,
Always the first to help, yet determinedly,
"Nothing to see here!" you'd stubbornly insist,
Exploded appendix, hidden cancer diagnosis,
questionable medical decisions abroad,
Uzbekistan, Morocco, Egypt—
Emergencies turned into legendary tales.
Purple was your color,
Your coat, lipstick, luggage,
An explosion of vibrant spirit,
My closet now your legacy,
A purple fairy guiding travels,
Son proudly flaunting your hue,
Bullies be damned!
Your life, a testament,
Resilience woven through struggles,
Regrets? "Je ne regrette rien," you'd boldly claim,
Though med school dreams unmet,
You lived life fully, passionately, unbound.
Today, Mama, on your Mother's Day,
We celebrate your glorious legacy,
Forever embedded in laughter,
Exaggerations, stubborn grace,
Love unfiltered, unapologetic,
And a fearless heart.
Your purple spirit lives,
Boldly, beautifully,
Forever guiding me.
Whether your mother is still with you or off exploring her next adventure, what parts of her do you (or your kids) carry forward? Physical traits, quirky habits, points of view, or powerful emotions? I'd love to hear your stories!
My heart is filled. My eyes are wet. My spirit soars!! You most certainly live on in your Mama!! Such a beautiful tribute to a woman I would have LOVED to spend time with. So excited for where her radiant purple spirit takes her and you next. Love that Jasper is wearing it loud and proud!!
This is so sweet and touching. I love her and her purple and her many quirks! Thank you for sharing her with those of us who never had the opportunity to meet her. 💜