Definitely Fine by Amy Lavelle

Author:Amy Lavelle [Lavelle, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orion
Published: 2021-05-11T00:00:00+00:00

Over the span of my life, I have discovered a series of societal truths. This makes me sound very old and wise, when in fact, I’m neither, but I do know a few things and one of them is about Mother’s Day. Mother’s Day, you see, is not about mothers. You might think it is, but it’s not. Mother’s Day is about posting flattering pictures of mothers from when they were younger on the internet and buying them a small tree from the garden centre. This is so widely known and accepted that that first year, I even got a text from Evie about it. ‘Are you going to post that photo of your mum?’ she said. I knew exactly what photo she meant. I posted it online most years. It’s of my mum when she was in her twenties, on a beach, in a bikini. I am also in the picture. I am eating sand. This photo is infamous in my family. It hangs on the wall in my family’s home and I have a copy on the wall in mine. We are all very proud of this photo and draw attention to it whenever we can – except for Mum, that is, who never did and who was the only one actually in the photo (the only one that’s worth looking at, at least). It doesn’t matter that it’s not any of us looking radiant in a bikini; we are connected to her and there is that glow by association. ‘If not,’ Evie’s message continued, ‘can I have a copy of it? I need some motivation to give a shit about what my own body looks like now I’ve got Harry.’ I emailed her a copy and turned off my phone.

I didn’t want to post a picture of my mum. I didn’t want to see photos of other people’s young, hot mums. It was like the birthday card display at the supermarket all over again. I wanted to get through the whole weekend blindfolded and at a sprint. Then I could wake up on Monday and it would be over. Hence my plan: see my friends on Saturday, spend Sunday with Ollie forgetting about it entirely.

The night before my friends were due to come over, I had a dream. It was about Mum, but of course it was about Mum. I’m not going to tell you about the time I dreamed that the Mona Lisa was trying to kill me. I was in Mum’s bedroom and then I saw her (Mum, not the Mona Lisa). She was wearing a beautiful dress and glowing. Not in an ethereal, ghost-like way, but in a healthy living and really good yoga-session way. I felt infused with love. She came towards me, smiling, with her arms outstretched and then I pushed her away and started yelling at her for borrowing my make-up and making me late. I told her she ruined everything and just had time to see her look very hurt, before I woke up and started to cry.

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