Lunchbox love letters

Ding!

“You have one notification on WordPress”.

It’s 2am in the morning.

Someone has been reading my blogs in Australia.

I already know who it was without even opening it.

You see, I’ve been receiving these consistent messages from the same person since I was born.

Words of encouragement passed on the step of the school bus, long heart felt messages of love in Christmas cards, handwritten notes in my lunchbox.

Then the digital area came along and with that came text messages of good luck before exams, Facebook wall posts telling me I was missed and now most recently, excited comments about my big adventure on WordPress.

Every word written in those small little notes made their way into my soul and gently shaped themselves into a heart.

Then day by day, memories called ‘love’ were weaved in, never to be lost, stolen or given away.

I stretch up arm out of the warm blanket and open the message from my one and only mum.

 

Another lunchbox love letter, as I call them.

What was her definition of love?

  • Staying up until 2am in the morning with me to write a university assignment on Essential Statistics, a topic she knew nothing about, but she knew she could make a good cup of tea.
  • Saving enough money on a receptionists and a plumbers wage, forsaking everyday luxuries to take the family on a holiday to the snow.
  • Cooking two meals on a regular basis, so that I didn’t have to eat food I didn’t like.
  • Assuring me that I was strong enough to work in the mines when others didn’t think it was a good idea, and telling me that everything would be ok if I decided to quit.
  • Carefully cutting the centres from patticakes, filling them with icing, and making us the only kids in primary school with butterfly cakes for lunch.
  • Ensuring Santa Claus knew where I lived until the ripe age of 21.
  • Telling me that I could do it when I was homesick in Denmark, before hanging up the phone and crying because she missed me greatly.
  • Driving an hour to pick up the head scarf I forgot to take to a dancing concert.
  • Making every birthday special by allowing us pick ANY cake from the Women’s Weekly Birthday Cake Cookbook and choosing the meal for dinner that night.
  • Sacrificing pieces of her own heart and giving it to our family

If you are a new mum and wondered how you are ever going to show a child that you truly love them, then there is your list. Every lego house you make with your child, every cup of tea at 2am in the morning, every word of assurance is love.

 

Now, show my mum how much she is loved by posting a memory of her below to cheer her up (because I know she’s weeping through a whole box of tissues reading this message!)

Love you mum xo

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3 thoughts on “Lunchbox love letters

  1. To Dear Jess, Just opened the iPad and there it was a message from you. You sure do know how to make me cry, I have several tissues here sitting next to me. My kids are all special to me no matter what. We are looking forward to seeing you soon it’s getting closer. Dad is working on the roof of Clintons shed at this very moment. God is asleep at my feet. Love you too xxxxxx mum

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  2. Happy birthday Robyn. You are special to everyone you meet. You made us a part of your family right from the start, from cooing over our babies, to sharing Xmas and everything in between. I even got your coffee biscuit recipe!!

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    1. Thank you for your kind thoughts, but I’m just an everyday person. Thank you for your birthday wishes. Xxxxx Robyn

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