I confess: I miss my mum.
Now, don’t get me wrong. I love university. I feel like I’ve spent the past five years of my like working hard at things I didn’t necessarily enjoy in the hopes that it would pay off when it came to university. I’ve wanted so desperately to get into a top university all my life, and, now I’m here, it feels like everything is sliding into place. I’m studying at one of the world’s top twenty universities, and, despite having moved here over a month ago, I still want to yell “I got in! I got in” from the rooftops.
But there’s one side effect to getting my dream that I didn’t quite anticipate: missing my mum. I came down with the freshers flu (which, if you were wondering, is really just a nasty cold) pretty quickly. I felt so run down that I went to see my GP, only to be told to get some rest and boost up on my vitamin C – stuff I was already doing. Right then, all I wanted was to go complain to my mum. I wanted a hug and a blanket and a hot cup of tea and, I’ll admit it, I wanted some sympathy. It sucked. At home, I’d taken all of these things for granted. I might have had to make the cup of tea myself, but it was still there.
Since then, I’ve begun to appreciate (even more than I did before, which was a lot) how much my mum has done for me. Who knew cooking for yourself every night was so hard? And cleaning up after yourself when you’re done? It’s a nightmare. I thought I couldn’t possibly dislike washing up any more than I did before – but, alas, I was wrong. There are all sorts of things that a household needs to stay functional, boring things that I never remember to put on my shopping list. I am astounded by the amount of toilet roll I go through by myself, having been used to a stocked up bathroom my whole life. There are all of these tiny little things that my mum did that made a difference to me – things I never even thought about.
So, whilst I was already very thankful for my mum – who has been there for me through everything I can possibly remember – I feel like I appreciate her a little more now. And it makes me miss her, because, whilst she is only a phone call away if I need some moral support, I no longer have her around to help with those really little things in life.