It’s that time of year again when we all get to celebrate our mums, our grandmums, our mother figures and the fact that some of us are mums.
Gone are the days where my son would bring me his (ahem) beautiful artwork from school his beautifully coloured in (ahem, ahem) Mother’s Day card.
Each and every Mother’s Day since I had my son, my son and my husband shower me with my favourite flowers, a new cookbook, and a coffee in bed and lots of hugs and kisses. I love being spoilt by my boys.
Mother’s Day is a difficult day for me, an extremely difficult day. Here I am blessed to have my loving husband and my adoring son yet internally I am screaming, and I feel guilt that I couldn’t do enough to make my mum live. I guess it’s like a double edged sword. I like that I am being celebrated by my little family but deep inside of me I grieve the loss of my mum. I’m a grown arse woman but I STILL to this day crave my mother’s love, her advice, her guidance, her company. They say a mothers love never dies and I totally understand that.
Zoitsa Homely Produce wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for my beautiful mum Zoi…Zoitsa. My mother taught me everything! Cooking was her favourite past time and in time it has become my favourite thing to do. My mum taught me the importance of seasoning dishes, the importance of how to season dishes, she opened up my palette. Coming from a Greek family was not always about Greek food in my home. My mum was an avid cookbook freak (just like Moi), and we would always toddle off to our local library. I was borrowing Enid Blyton books, and my brother was borrowing Rin Tin Tin and Asterix and Obelix comic books, whilst our mum was always found in the cookbook aisle.
I’m sure a lot of you don’t care nor will even read this blog but I felt compelled to write down her life journey. I guess I want to celebrate her life.
My mum was born in a village in Greece called Halki in Corinth on August 15th, 1939. One of 6 daughters. Mum was number 4. At a tender young age of 18 my mother made the decision to head to the unknown…Australia. She had no choice really, she had to leave Greece there was nothing there for her. Keep in mind that the 1940’s in Greece emerged from sheer devastation. The post-civil war political regime was basically a dictatorship and by the mid-50’s there were economic hardships…poverty.
My mum made the choice to come to Australia, work her arse off, make as much money as she could to send back home to her family, to her parents. The goal was to live and work in Australia for 5 years TOPS, and then to pack it all up and go back to Greece. Life doesn’t always go to plan though, right? She met my dad through friends and their first date was at a Greek Cinema in Richmond. They quickly got married, purchased their first home, and had my brother John and then me.
When I used to hear her story and even now when I retell her life’s journey I am always left in sheer astonishment on her determination. She left a tiny village in Greece on her own with a tiny little suitcase that held basically nothing in it. She boarded a massive ship and sailed the seas for over a month to arrive at Port Melbourne terminal. Came to a country not knowing a skerrick of English. Her will and determination and in turn her love for Australia makes me cry but yet smile. I am proud that Zoitsa was my mum.
My mum would have been 86 years old this year and I would give anything to be able to hug her and hear her voice just one more time. I will always celebrate and honour my mum. Always.
With that wishing all the mums the Happiest of Mothers Days. I hope that everyone is spoilt rotten (because us mums darn deserve it!)
To our mums that have passed away I hope that they all know how much we have and will always love them.
Happy Mother’s Day!
Irene
