Kiwis pay tribute to the women who raised them

Everyone’s version of Mother’s Day is special to them and their family – here, four New Zealanders explain the relationships and experiences that mould the way they celebrate.

Following a rather unpredictable year, one silver lining of the pandemic has been that everyone in our family is back in New Zealand for the first time in years.

My sister and her husband had been living overseas for almost a decade and I had been abroad for more than two years.

We were suddenly given this opportunity to spend more time together that wasn’t just a fleeting visit or holiday.

We’ve grabbed the chances to celebrate together this past year, perhaps more consciously and keenly than ever before.

Mother’s Day will always be bittersweet for my Mum, Maria.

Her father, my Gung-Gung, passed away on Mother’s Day in 1995. Sadly and coincidentally, her mother, my Por-Por, passed away two days before Mother’s Day in 2015. So each year, during the week of Mother’s Day, we’ll go to the cemetery to pay our respects ahead of celebrations.

Growing up, my parents worked every day of the year, except Christmas Day, so Mother’s Day was usually a yum cha. It often felt like stolen time.

My parents, like the story of many immigrants in New Zealand, owned restaurants and takeaways.

They would threaten me with the prospect of taking orders or having to work part-time at the takeaway if I didn’t try hard at school. Unfortunately, for my sister, being the eldest meant she was not privy to the warning – she just had to work (she was a teenager, no child-labour here).

But this was my Mum’s way of showing her love, and we knew this.

When I think of my Mum, this is the overwhelming feeling I have. She constantly worked hard so we could have as many opportunities as possible. She never discouraged us if we wanted to try new things and always found a way to make it possible.

She armed us with a few pieces of advice that have so far, I think, served us well. They were, ‘‘give everything a go’’ and ‘‘you should always ask, all they can say is no’’.

You could say it’s cliche, but having moved to New Zealand from Hong Kong at age 26, Mum wanted us to seize all the opportunities she was never afforded.

It was only once I was older, had finished school and my Mum worked less, where we had more time to spend with one another.

I realised, like my grandma, she has a wicked sense of humour, incredibly dry, and is, most of the time, quite savage.

She never discouraged us if we wanted to try new things and always found a way to make it possible.

But in the most entertaining way. A thick skin is advised.

Any celebration with my mum will always involve food. That’s a nonnegotiable. We’ve combined families this year, so we’ll be up near Matakana at my brother-in-law’s family beach house. A joint celebration of the mums. We’ll have lamb cutlets on the barbecue, salads and bubbly.

Mum is also an excellent baker. Past birthdays create a timeline of Women’s Weekly cakes. Dessert is a different stomach. In more recent years, it’s a revered black forest cake, which only turns out on birthdays.

Close friends revel in getting an invitation to the celebrations in hopes to taste just a sliver of the goods. But of course, with Mother’s Day, the baking duties are taken off her hands.

Flocking back to New Zealand last year, we turned up on Mum’s doorstep relatively abruptly. But she has insisted, she’s very pleased to have us around again. Given what’s happening around the world, it’s made me very aware, time with Mum is incredibly precious.

Although, I do think she occasionally misses the peace and quiet and wishes her two, now adult daughters, would refrain from constantly asking why she hoards so many towels.

Love you Mum! Happy Mother’s Day!