mother was a lot of things to a lot of people. She was a political
activist, a campaigner for peace, an art historian, a writer. She
was a friend, she was a wife, she was a grandmother. But to me, Keren
and Susanna, she was our mum. When I was a kid my mum used to wake
me every morning saying “Uppy uppy little puppy” and “Wakey
wakey little snakey”. She even did this when I returned home
in my 20s to Golders Green for a while after leaving college.
Mum used to sing silly songs to herself. Susanna and I once set up
a tape recorder when we were living in Princeton to catch her singing
“hey little hen, when when when will you lay me an egg for my
Mum was nice to everyone and could see the positive side in anything.
If you stepped on dog shit it was a sign of good luck.
Mum loved children. She loved her own children and her children’s
children. She never lost the ability to play. She would love playing
games with her grandchildren, and was incredibly tolerant, tender
Mum loved the cats she and my dad had. Tuesday when I was a kid, and
Blackchin later and of course Caitlin who she and dad loved for many
years. Mum would buy Caitlin expensive fish from Sainsburys, and then
would cook it for her. When Caitlin discovered she liked to drink
from the bath Mum would run it for her.
Sad things upset my mum, she hated seeing the evil things that people
did to each other, and did what she thought was right, and gave to
charity to help anything and anyone that touched her. She gave her
time and effort to CND. She gave money to charities that help children
she gave money to charities that promoted peace and fought to defeat
poverty. She was a pain to take to football matches, as she’d
always feel sorry for the team losing, even on the rare occasions
when it wasn’t Cardiff City. This would drive me and my dad
My mum was kind, clever, and wise. She listened. Her parents gave
her admirable values which I know we all as her children try to carry
forward. I’m proud of my mother’s heritage and how it
has been passed on when I see my son recently independently going
on a young people’s march for peace.
I still hear my mum’s voice. I can still hear her advice. Her
voice in my head is the sane, sensible, loving part of me. The more
kind, tolerant part. I miss my mum.