Mum's Lipstick

There’s a picture we all know

Of little girls wearing mum’s heels

And ruining her make up with sticky fingers.

Little girls dream of being big enough

To push the vacuum cleaner

And reach inside the kitchen sink.

Mother’s know there is more to life

And dream their little girls will demand

More than a home. Little girls

Grow up and become something

And mother is no longer needed.

They paint their faces well now.

A visit home - mother’s make it home -

And daughters get ready for evening drinks.

Bigger fingers dip into mum’s make up.

Mum’s lipstick will always belong to me.

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Discussion

I came across some notes I had made from a poetry workshop listing my own personal mythology. Amongst the list were things I recognised well: crossing bridges; jasmine; morning coffee. These things have ritual and nostalgia and remind me I’m alive.

Amongst the list was something surprising and yet evocative. It said: Mum’s lipstick - it will always belong to me.

To this day, reaching into my mum’s make up bag is like reaching back through childhood. It is an unwritten promise that I will always be loved and supported.

And I am eternally grateful for the example my mum set for my sister and me. She encouraged us to go out and be independent, to ask for more from life than she was offered.

Now, I watch my sister with her two daughters and I wonder how they will grow. What artefacts will they collect from a life filled with love?