My Mama: Made Of Steel (Cut Oats: Soft and Hard)

It’s Mother’s Day in the UK today. As someone who grew up straddled between New York and London, with a little bit of Hong Kong mixed in, my mother has always enjoyed having two days in the year to celebrate her. But let's be real, our mothers' deserve a day to be celebrated every day. My mother is an intricate and incredible woman, and everyone loves her. We have a complicated relationship, as every mother and daughter do, but this whole experience was a harrowing one for her, as it would be for any parent. And she helped me get through some of the most terrifying moments. She was a warrior with me and held my hand every step of the way. Don't get me wrong, she drove me mental in hospital, but she was incredible both then and in the ensuing months of recovery. And I can't begin to imagine what the horror of facing the idea of losing her only child was.

She is a writer by trade and has an incredible way with words. During my seemingly interminable hospital stay, she would post every so often on Facebook to give family and friends updates since the information was at a real premium during this time. In honour of her being such a badass and my own inspiration for being as strong as I am, because she's been through some tough situations in her life and made it out the other side, I've lazily copied and pasted some of these posts here, to give you another perspective on the story, if only a small glimpse. I'm sure she has a lot more to say on the subject if probed. 

Here is where she spills the beans to all her Facebook friends, and the love poured in--hey, social media is good for something. It shows you your community in a crisis.

'Nora has been in ICU at Columbia Presbyterian for the past week with a mysterious and sudden onset of liver failure. She's at the top of the transplant list and could get the operation any day now. I have no more words to say except to ask that she be sent love and strong positive wishes from those who love her. Deepest gratitude to my friends and family who helped prop up me and Tom during these unspeakably awful 8 days.'

Ed. note: This is how out of her mind she was. I wasn't at Columbia Presbyterian, completely different hospital altogether. I was at Cornell Weill Presbyterian. Ok fine, I'm splitting hairs but what is a child's existence if not to correct their parents.

This is what only children do. They are forced to give themselves bunny ears.