“I miss you so much… I love you.” I falter on the word love. My voice thickens, as warm tears well up. I blink to hold them back.
“And how do you spell your name?” comes the reply.
I pull myself together, “C-l-a-i-r-e” I spell slowly, phonetically. “Add long row of xxxxxxxs afterwards please. She needs lots of kisses.” I instruct.
“Ok that’s all done.” Comes the voice over the phone. “Your order is complete, and delivery will be on Mothering Sunday.” “Thanks so much” I reply, and hang up the call to the florist in England.
Mother’s Day is never an easy time for expatriate families. It is the celebration of your closeness, which really only magnifies the geographical distance between you.
In 2020 I had a trip and holiday cottage booked to spend British Mother’s Day with my daughter and my mother, in a cute village in England. Three generations of girls were going to spend the weekend enjoying spring walks, eating pasties and drinking Somerset cider. Covid saw to it that I never made that journey, and haven’t been able to see my mother in person ever since. My daughter is still doing online school here in Cayman, while she waits for the UK boarding school to reopen.
Here in the Cayman Islands we celebrate Mother’s Day on the second Sunday in May. The British Mother’s Day therefore always feels premature in the year, and can have the habit of creeping up unexpectedly. Hence my last-minute phone call to a UK based florist last week. She did get her flowers delivered on Mothering Sunday in time, and she loved them.
In some ways it is great, having twice the opportunity to celebrate motherhood. In other ways it is twice the chance to feel distanced from family. My childhood was spent living abroad, and so expatriate life feels normal to me. And video calls are a game changer when it comes to keeping in touch regularly. But there are of course times when I do envy those who have their mothers down the road. The ones who organize a long Sunday lunch at their favourite restaurant, and then spend the afternoon laughing and hugging. When Mum and I have those sort of get-togethers, she often takes the opportunity for a post-lunch nod-off on the couch. She then wakes, and acts like it never happened, and I play along. ‘Where did the time go?” we ask in a surprised tone.
Naturally, I miss being with my mother this weekend to celebrate British Mother’s Day. Then of course, I remember there is a pandemic going on, and the UK is still in lockdown. Many countries don’t even have restaurants open. This year, so many people can’t hug their mothers, even the ones who live down the road. I am not alone this year in wishing my mother a Happy Mothering Sunday through a video chat, sharing messages on how we miss each other and are looking forward to our first hug. Whenever that may be.
