How to describe my mum? Warm, caring, hilarious, creative, colourful, loud, strong-willed, stubborn, energetic - a force of nature!

My childhood memories are of her always being there. Wanting to be at home with us when we were little, but also not one to let the grass grow, she decided to start her own business that she could operate from home, and “Jenny’s Fashions” was born. Making made-to-measure outfits for the residents of Clevedon and beyond, ballet dresses, leotards for the gymnastics club, choir outfits, an array of beautiful wedding and bridesmaids dresses, the rumble of the sewing machine was the constant background noise to our childhood. When we were old enough she even pulled us into the sweatshop - I remember making endless pink satin roses one summer when she was busy making dresses for three weddings that were all on the same day!

Of course we benefited too - we were, by far the best-dressed girls in Clevedon - if not the whole of the south west! In return for spending endless hours trailing around fabric shops, we would eagerly look through the dress pattern catalogues, choose materials and explain to mum exactly how we wanted our dresses to look (often deviating somewhat from the available patterns) but she never turned a hair, and always managed to pull off our seemingly impossible demands. 

She was a ‘fun mum’. Always buying treats - usually on a whim:

“I thought you might like this…” 
“I saw this and thought of you!”
or “I know this is your favourite so…” 

She never stopped doing this - even when we were well past childhood.

She would have indoor picnics with us, making us special pancakes, she’d often get the paddling pool out on a sunny day and then chase us round the garden with the hose! For years, she would faithfully record every episode of Neighbours for us so that we could watch it when Dad wasn’t there! 

Our childhood Christmasses were extra special because of her - she was Christmas! Letting us decorate the tree and not minding that all the baubles were hung on the front, lower half! Going completely overboard on presents, cooking the best dinner and best of all, a surprise Christmas outfit hung on our bedroom doors on Christmas morning - courtesy of Jenny’s Fashions. She always managed to do this - even though she was ridiculously busy in the lead-up to Christmas. 

Mum also spent most of our childhood as a Cricket Widow - first when dad was still playing, then as he took on the role of groundsman. For 15 years, mum had to contend with a husband who was constantly mowing grass that was not on her lawn (which was usually overgrown and strewn with weeds). 

She passed plenty of her Dutch heritage on to us (although the language proved a bridge too far). She would cycle around town with us - Karen on the front, Ali on the back and me on my bike beside her. She took us ice skating (despite the lack of frozen canals in Clevedon). Every new year’s eve she made us traditional dutch donut treats - olliebollen and appelflappen. She taught us to love spiced speculaas biscuits, treacley strop on toast, salty liquorice and mayonnaise on chips. 

Although generally at home in her second language, she was prone to making slips every now and then. This always caused much laughter from us - which she always took with a better grace than we probably deserved. Her slips were often better than the correct versions though - for example: 

Being on a ‘wicky sticket’
The Senile dimension
Material that was ‘Fire retarded’
Her ‘hot flashes’
And the Bootlace Beatles were some of the best.

She also reserved the right to embarrass us at any given moment, and any protest from us would be met with “I’m allowed to - I’m your mother dear!”. Of course she herself was rarely embarrassed by anything. For example, while most people nowadays tend to have their phone on silent, she always had hers on at full volume. Her chosen ringtone? One of her favourite songs - Walk of Life by Dire Straits. Of course, whenever it rang she always seemed to take the longest time to find her phone and answer it. 

She was always our biggest and best supporter though. Full of encouragement and positivity, no matter what we did - our happiness was always her main concern. We could do anything as long as it was something we actually wanted to be doing. After spending many years teaching in cultures where parents have very clear expectations of their children, I realise how lucky we were to have a mum with that outlook. She was always there for us and with no judgement, only love.   

When I remember of her I think of her in colourful clothes, laughing, soaking up the sun, singing along to her favourite cheesy songs but wildly out of key, watching truly terrible, trashy tv, making instant friends with any random person she happened to meet, drinking tea, cooking delicious meals, knitting at the speed of lightning, and (of course) sewing.  
 
I’ll miss her warm and open personality, her sense of fun, her enormous smile, and of course her hugs. Thank you for being the best mum we could have asked for, from the moment we were born right up to the last hug. We’ll miss you every day, but you’ll always be with us.