I saw yours, which is what

elliot — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 18:15:10 -0500

I saw yours, which is what inspired me to write my own. I think we said different but similar things, equally well. Occasionally I think it's worth writing these kinds of thoughts down. I become increasingly concerned with my "legacy".

i linked to this in my blog.

Chloe — Fri, 11 Apr 2008 16:45:32 -0500

i linked to this in my blog. i think it's lovely. did you see the thing i did a few months ago? we said similar things, but you did it better.

Why my mum was a hero

elliot — Tue, 08 Apr 2008 17:22:10 -0500

I just read Paul Graham's list of heroes, which was an interesting read. It got me thinking about my heroes. There probably aren't many, and I'm not in the mood to expand on the list, other than to throw out a few names like J.G. Ballard, Scott Walker, Max Ernst, Marcel Duchamp. The thing they have in common is that they all followed their own path, pushed at boundaries (still are in some cases), changed art. Those are my run-of-the-mill heroes.

But when I think about my mum, who died in 2003, I realise how much of a hero she was and is to me. I don't talk about her much, or how painful it was when she died; but I still think about her often, and the older I get, the more admiration for her I have. Here's why she's one of my heroes:

She always encouraged me to think for myself and be creative. She was very creative herself, and I remember her painting when I was little, then going to art lessons, knitting, crocheting, making cushions. There was a room full of patchwork material left behind when she died.
She was always proud of me. One time I remember her being critical of one of my stories, and it broke my heart, I cared so much for her opinion.
She gave me enormous freedom when I got older, basically letting me do what I liked. I used to be nocturnal when I came home from university, and she never complained. She also let us cook our own food and eat what we wanted as soon as we were old enough (though she still guided me into reasonable eating habits). But because she brought me up to be respectful of other people, I knew well enough not to go wild. In fact, she was always encouraging me to go out and socialise, as I preferred to stay home a lot (very shy).
She was very understanding of my dislike for games lessons, and basically let me skive off them if I felt like it.
She gave up a lot to give our family stability. I think she was unhappy about living in Spalding (it is a lovely town, but was crap if you wanted any kind of access to the outside world, like music or films or art). She was always talking about moving away. But we stayed because Dad is happy there, and it's a good place to bring up young children (I think). I often think that she yearned for a bigger life, and that she sacrificed that for the happiness of those around her.
She had no truck with religion. I'm not anti-Christian or anything, and neither was she as far as I know, but I remember asking her "What happens after you die?" as part of my homework when I was about 11, and her replying: "You go into the ground and get eaten by worms. That's why I want to be cremated." (She was.) She was basically an atheist, and had a humanist funeral. But what I admire was that she was straightforward with us and had firm beliefs.
She sparked my love of science fiction. Her shelves were absolutely full of Michael Moorcock books (dozens of them), along with loads of other fantasy and science fiction. I started reading them when I was about 9 or 10, and she let me, despite them being full of sex, violence and wierdness. As she got older, she moved onto horror, and used to read Stephen King novels, sometimes while knitting with the television on. None of my friends' mums had the faintest interest in what I was interested in. I think she may also have watched every single detective series ever shown on terrestrial television.
She always made a real effort whenever I went home to visit, getting in all my favourite foods.

She wasn't perfect: she had a foul temper, and I think she struggled a lot when I and my siblings were young. She regretted her treatment of us as we got into our teens. But she was always there for us, always caring, always forgiving.

townx - Why my mum was a hero - Comments

I saw yours, which is what

i linked to this in my blog.

Why my mum was a hero