Praising those who raised us

I reckon birthdays, anniversaries, ‘‘special’’ days like Mother’s Day should be an experience, not an expense.

Usually we’ll spend the day out together, and for a while I was really into going for a fancy high tea, something we wouldn’t do any other day of the year. The cute little cakes and sandwiches, everyone dressed up, off to a swanky hotel.

The last one we did was at a tea estate. We’d visited a tea plantation in the Malaysian highlands a few years back and thought it might be similar. It wasn’t, but we had a good laugh and it was a nice day for a drive.

I wish we could do that again this year, sit inside a restaurant, surrounded by other people. Something normal, I suppose. The past year tipped everything upside down and this will be the first one I think, that we’re in different time zones.

We Facetime every week or so, and text in between. I send pictures of places I’ve been to, exhibitions and galleries. Mum’s really into art so I take pictures of the pictures, and the description, and then it’s sort of like she’s been able to see it herself.

I must have sent dozens of photos of the bright pink and white cherry blossoms around Central Park, the daffodils and tulips spilling out from the pavement gardens.

We call my mum Raf, cos of her initials. Some people call her Ro. I’ve hardly ever called her Mum in public because she never responds. She says she just assumes it’s some other kid calling out for some other Mum so no need to turn around.

She’s great fun. When I was growing up she’d tell me she never wanted to be my best friend – she was my mother. But we did become good friends as I grew into adulthood.

I didn’t think she was a ‘‘cool mum’’ growing up. I’m not sure when that changed, but I think she’s pretty cool now. She wears high-top sneakers and drives a convertible. She likes dancing. We share Spotify playlists. She introduced me to negronis. Maybe I was the not-cool one.

My mum is incredibly generous and supportive but she’ll tell me straight up if she thinks something’s a bad idea. She’ll tell you I don’t have many of those (but I do, she’s just being supportive). She always set boundaries, even if I didn’t stick to them. She always came and picked me up from parties late at night when I couldn’t get a cab home. She taught me to cook (somewhat successfully) but things always taste better when your mum cooks them I reckon.

It would have been really lovely to have Raf visit this year, but in lieu of that I’ve had to counter my own advice and throw money at it. At least Mother’s Day will be a surprise – Raf is terrible at opening presents early. She can’t help it. She’s even opened presents I’ve sent addressed to me, in an attempt to trick her (‘‘the wrapping was just so pretty,’’ she said). So for Mother’s Day I posted something to arrive just in time – and with strict instructions.

I’m not going to say what it is because she’ll read the paper with a cup of coffee this morning before she does anything else.

Most people only get one mum so I made sure I’ve told her this heaps over the years – I’ve always looked around at everyone and thought, nah, wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.

She’s the best mother I could have asked for.

I didn’t think she was a ‘‘cool mum’’ growing up. I’m not sure when that changed but I think she’s pretty cool now. Maybe I was the not-cool one.