Ode to Moeder van Ellen Brudet | Soso lobi

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Mum,

The day your mother dies, you are no longer a child. In one fell swoop, I lost my best friend, my support, my foundation. You sadly said it many times: ‘Just wait until I am no more.’ Fifteen January 1998, that day came. I still miss you every day. Of course I have given your loss a place, but the loss will never go away, nor do I want it to. As I write this, tears immediately come from my eyes. This is a time when I would have liked so much to cry out in your arms, when I would have liked to hear you say, ‘Ellen, everything will be all right, keep believing in what you are doing.’ These words I hear now in the spiritual. Day by day, I am grateful that I was able to inherit the strength of perseverance from you. You went through a lot and had to contend with various physical problems. This also sometimes led to depression, because in your head you wanted so much, but physically you just couldn't do it anymore. And so sometimes life really didn't become easy. But how you did it every time still amazes me. You battled through it again and again and you came back stronger. Yet in the prime of your new approach to life, things suddenly went completely wrong. Unfortunately, all the misery and your lung condition won out over the battle. After your death, I was told that I have the same condition as you, and in 2012 I was admitted for four months to the same rehabilitation centre as you were in, also the same room, and then I knew: I have to do this differently.

I have to start doing it differently. I turned my mindset a hundred and eighty degrees and said, ‘Mum, I love you, but I am not you and I am not my illness.’ To this day, this strength makes me persevere every time, no matter how tough certain things are. I inherited this strength one hundred per cent from you. My dear mother, the woman who was always there for everyone and too often pushed herself away when I had something on my mind. Then you were that listening ear, who was always there. You didn't always agree with the choices I made in my life, but you were there for me until the last moment. I know I didn't always make it easy for you because of my powerful personality. Now I know that you always continued to support me unconditionally anyway. You gave me a basis in life that I was able to put to good use: compassion, honesty and being kind to the people around you. You found the assertiveness bit quite intense. The words ‘Ellen, the tone made music’, I understand like the best now, dear mum. But my over-assertiveness did take me very far and I'm quite sure you will be proud of me from above. And if you could, you would say, ‘Ellen be especially over-assertive, because your struggle for normalisation and awareness would never have made it without this great trait.’ So, Mum, thank you for making me the woman I am today. I am becoming more and more like you.  

My children are different from me, but they have grown up to be wonderful men, making the choices they think are right. And like you, I disagree with so many choices, and then one day I hope they will have the aha moment like me. There are times when I beg for your wisdom and your arms around me, because you know: how hard motherhood can be. ‘Little kids, little worries, big kids, big worries.’ You've said it before, but I hope you know that you really don't have to worry too much about me. Things always work out for me in the end, and that's because I learned all this from you. It was only after you were gone that I really started to see your unconditional form of love for us. When you were alive, it could sometimes be seen as exaggerated concern, but then when the person is suddenly no longer there, you would love to kill to feel that feeling again. I know I could always come to you with all my emotions and all my craziness. You warned us time and again that nothing is as changeable as human beings. There were times when I thought, ‘Gee mum, what misery you go through with people.’ Now I know what you mean then: you, who always stood by others, always got the lid on her nose and a knife in her back. Your kindness was abused. Unfortunately, I had to experience this myself, but every time I make sure, just like you, to come out of this experience even stronger.  

My children are different from me, but they have grown up to be wonderful men, making the choices they think are right. And like you, I disagree with so many choices, and then one day I hope they will have the aha moment like me. There are times when I beg for your wisdom and your arms around them, because you know: how hard motherhood can be. ‘Little kids, little worries, big kids, big worries.’ You've said it before, but I hope you know that you really don't have to worry too much about me. Things always work out for me in the end, and that's because I learned all this from you. It was only after you were gone that I really started to see your unconditional form of love for us. When you were alive, it could sometimes be seen as exaggerated concern, but then when the person is suddenly no longer there, you would love to kill to feel that feeling again. I know I could always come to you with all my emotions and all my craziness. You warned us time and again that nothing is as changeable as human beings. There were times when I thought, ‘Gee mum, what misery you go through with people.’ Now I know what you mean then: you, who always stood by others, always got the lid on her nose and a knife in her back. Your kindness was abused. Unfortunately, I had to experience this myself, but every time I make sure, just like you, to come out of this experience even stronger.  

Mum, more and more I think back to how you stood your ground despite discrimination when you chose to have a relationship with a black man, my wonderful father. Your determination and unconditional love made you go straight against everyone. You kept shouting that you chose my father because of how he was and how he treated you. You fell in love with his personality, not how he looked, even though you could see he was coloured, of course. Your drive to normalise your love I also saw later. How you got angry every time because there weren't even toys I could recognise myself in. You never understood this. You kept telling me that even though society showed me different things, I am still beautiful and can achieve anything I want. All this made me start where you started. With Colourful Goodies, I wanted to bring more colour into the world, so that there was a doll for every child to identify with. And it's all because you made me realise this early on. I have since changed the system by spreading my vision and I am grateful that you are my spiritual leader in this.  

Thirty December this year, I turned 57. For a year I was hiccupping this age; I was going to get older than you. On 16 January, I woke up and I was one day older than you. What a bizarre scene that is! But I know you are looking down from above with a big smile and saying, ‘Ellen, you are going to get so old, because the world is far from finished with you.’ My friend has edited a picture where you and I are both in it. Both of us are 57 here and when I got this picture, tears streamed down my cheeks again. This picture I will cherish. For the rest of my life, mum, not having you around me, in the flesh, I've been dealing with that for so long now. It just comes with the territory. I have had to learn to accept that loss. It is now a big part of me. I remain strong in everything I go through in this life, because being strong and carrying on is something you gave me. I will always continue to tell the world how much I love you, and everyone actually sees how much I resemble you.  

Your loving daughter,

Ellen