The Girl

So I only got a bloody first for that assignment. I couldn't be happier, I think I had a little, secret cry. This blogging business hasn't enraptured me yet, but I am going to give the seed some TLC and see if the bud will bloom.
I'm posting an article I wrote about my lovely Mum, again this was for class. I'll get around to writing some real blog-style prose later but as a sleepy student assignments are as much effort as I can fathom. Maybe the Christmas period will harvest my creativity, maybe it will release me and I'll flow like mulled wine. Maybe I'll write a really cynical piece about being single at this ghastly time of year. Maybe.
The brief is completely fantastical. If Marie Claire actually did e-mail me asking me to write for them my smile would make me top heavy.

Write a 600 word feature on your Mother for a collection of intimate articles celebrating the inspirational lives of older women, as told by their children. These articles will aid our Super-Mum campaign, which will coincide with International Women’s Day (8.03.2010) and Mother’s Day (14.03.2010).

Remember, at Marie Claire we pride ourselves on being ‘More Than A Pretty Face.’ We are the fashion magazine with character, substance and depth, for women with a point of view, an opinion and a sense of humour.

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When I got to the age of thirteen I stopped seeing my Mum as my superhero. It wasn’t a cognitive decision; no major tragic event took place that would tarnish my opinion of her, in fact, we became much closer. It came suddenly, this impulsive realization crashing on top of my hormone-ridden head like a rally-car to the chest, the sudden understanding that she was a human being.

Now, however, my Mum is Athena, Greek goddess of wisdom, war, and skill. She battles through every set back with brute force, her power is ethereal, her love is tangible. Although every part mortal like myself, I don’t think she could ever be just a woman. Human being or goddess, how has Sharon Buchanan managed it? With the perusal of two wildly successful careers, raising four children and remaining twenty-five years happily married, I want to know how all these accolades can grace one woman who is yet to turn fifty and, of course, how can I learn from her successes?

When asked to sum up the last twenty years, my Mum automatically traces back time in her filo-fax of a brain: everything is in its place, under-file, organized and completed. Her 16 years in the Health Service peeked in 1990 when she became Head Occupational Therapist. Then, to coincide with a move across the country, took a u-turn and began to pursue a career in education. “It wasn’t planned,” she says, “When I moved [to Kent] in 1999…the plan was to take a complete break, but I’m not very good at being at home so that break lasted about 2 months!” The career change was a happy coincidence and before we had a chance to unpack the boxes she was passing her Certificate of Education and taking a permanent position at a local high school. Laughing, Mum jokes, “I never thought in a million years I’d be more than just a classroom teacher!” But to those that know her, this statement is easily dismissed. Ten years later and she’s the Head of Sixth Form.

A plethora of bold decisions has placed my Mum where she is today, “I’m one of those people who thinks ‘if I’m going to do this, it has to be to the best of my ability.’” If the tapestry of her career is anything to go by, pushing yourself to achieve- regardless of the no-sayers- is the formula for success.

Having grown older, the extent of her ambition and her relentless pursuit for happiness astounds me. When I was a bouncing “dolly-faced” baby, my parents’ both had full-time careers and three children- all under three year’s old. “I wanted to be surrounded by laughter and build individuals, moulding and creating them…It’s the ultimate gift.” And, of course, we cannot forget the main man in all this, my Dad, whose support and resilience has turned him into a Greek titan, holding up the heavens on his shoulders. “The key to any marriage is based on a solid foundation of love, mutual respect, and passion; without those three key elements, it becomes hard to communicate.

To understand that you’re Mother is a human being, just like you are, is to reach an age of emotional comprehension where you can accept mortality. I remember it distinctly. Before, my Mum was as solid as a house, unquestionably able to soar through her adult world with thunder-bolt precision. Then, like flicking a switch, my Super-Mum was an emotional, warm blooded woman, mortal to more than just kryptonite. Respect doesn’t even cut it. It’s more like awe. Awe that one woman, who does not have super powers, could accomplish so much, could drag herself on hands-and-knees over life’s hurdles without the ability to fly- it defies belief. But then that’s the role of a daughter, isn’t it? To hold your mother in a light where she is the epitome of ‘Woman.’ After all, regardless of the fact she’s just a woman, she’ll always be a goddess to me.