I wanted to celebrate the women who raised me and who were my role models and my heroines.
So this is a picture of 4 generations of the women in my family.
I’m the chubby baby in my mums arms with the Mohawk hairdo…. don’t judge me, It was the 70’s!
Then there’s my mums mum, and my nan’s mum. They were all strong, independent women who had unremarkable yet remarkable lives.
My great nan, ‘Nannie Price’ was your typical housewife of the day raising 9 babies in a tiny house while her husband worked all the hours God sent down the factory.
She couldn’t attend her eldest sons wedding because she was in labour with the youngest. She told me that story so many times.
She died when I was about 9 but I have some lovely memories of going to see her and sitting on her lap while she told me how clever I was and how much she loved me. She was always in an apron, with a dishcloth in her hand and she always had a brew on the go.
Her house was the go-to place for family gatherings and it was always the hub of chatter and gossip and mischief. And spam. Whatever that is.
My Nan, being the eldest girl of the 9, was tasked with ‘looking after the boys’ and polishing their shoes, helping with the cooking and cleaning and generally making the boys lives better. Because they were boys afterall, so much more important. Isn’t that what girls are for? She could never understand the injustice of that.
Nan was the matriarch of our family. She worked in a laundry during the war and taught me to iron a shirt. Properly. She even ironed socks, but we won’t dwell on that! She was warm and loving and my happy place.
She made the best scones, and chicken casserole and was the best listener ever. She taught me so much. Because mum was so young when I was born, we lived with my grandparents until I was about 6. They were the happiest memories of my childhood. Nan had the best hugs and always made me feel safe. She was ‘home’
And mum. What to say about mum?
Even though she was barely a child herself, she taught me respect, independence, loyalty and honesty. She taught me to rely on myself, and not wait to be rescued by a knight in shining armour. She worked hard.
She even managed to gain her degree and attend her graduation ceremony just weeks before she died. She made me so very proud.
These women didn’t change the world, they aren’t remembered for their heroism or their scientific discoveries. Their names aren’t etched in history books or awards.
But. International women’s day is a celebration of all women. Remarkable, inspiring and empowered women.
And women who didn’t know just how remarkable they were.