I had a really random thought about my mum the other night. Literally, late at night before I fell asleep, a memory that had never been more than a passing thought popped into my head. I recalled my first day of kindergarten. My mum had taken me to school on the back of her push bike and introduced me to my new friends and teachers. I wasn’t too phased initially and wandered into the room, curious about everything around me. I looked back and my mum was there by the window, with all the other mums, waving – probably holding back tears – but putting on a brave face for their little people, starting school for the first time. I waved at my mum, and wandered further into the room. A few minutes later, I turned to look again and my mum had gone. Panic swelled from my heart to my throat. I cried and cried.
