Sunday, 6 March 2016

Mothering Sunday

We went to church every Mothering Sunday when I was a child where I would be given a small bunch of violets to present to my mother. I don't think this tradition continues. I looked in my garden this morning but no violets are in flower just yet. Ceremonies and presents were very simple in post-war Britain. This photo of my mother attending to my hair was taken in the mid 1940's.
Bruce, our Boxer dog is the puppy on my knee, he was a loyal companion throughout my childhood. I'm sitting on the wall that divided the garden of our weekend cottage with the paddock where the district nurse kept her donkey. My hair was usually kept tightly confined in pigtails. When the pigtails were loosened my hair became a mass of little ridges, like the roof of a dog's mouth!
A few years ago I went in search of the cottage and found that it had changed out of all recognition.
I had difficulty maintaining a pregnancy, but eventually in 1972 succeeded in carrying a healthy daughter to term. 

Seven years later, after considerable help from the NHS, our second daughter was born.


Illustration copyright Rosemary Murphy
Our daughters make my life complete.
And I am immensely proud of the women they have become. 



  1. What lovely thoughts about being a mother. In the States we don't celebrate Mothering Sunday during Lent, but rather have a Hallmark/commerical Mother's Day in May. I believe Mothering Sunday was at one time a day when people were meant to go to their mother church, i.e., the church where they were baptized, and therefore it was a return to there village with a visit to their mother. It's easy to see how it turned from a Lenten observance to a holiday celebrating one's mother.

    1. Yes, Shawn, you're right, Mothering Sunday was the opportunity for servants to have a day off work to visit their 'mother' church and their families. It is quite separate from Mother's Day which has a more commercial basis.

  2. Happy Mother's Day to you, Rosemary. Such sweet sweet photos. Here's wishing you tons of violets when they finally do start to blossom.

    1. Thank you, Connie. It's strange to look at the old black and white photos - I can remember all the colours of the dress that my mother is wearing!