As I am writing this post, today 17th February, 2008 my relatives in Cyprus are in church, commemorating my mother’s death, 12 years ago. She died on 23rd February, 1996 and the memorials always take place on the Sunday which is before the date of death.
This day is always very hard for me because I cannot be there with my other family and share our memories together, so when I saw Apples and Thymes hosting an event about mothers and grandmothers, I thought what a nice opportunity to make my own memorial and share it with my blog co-writers and friends.
My mother gave birth to seven children, one of which died shortly after birth and I am the youngest child. My mother gave birth to me at the age of 43 and I always remember her as an old lady as she never dyed her hair and always wore black or dark coloured clothes, as it is a tradition to wear black after the death of beloved ones. I thought that this was merely a Greek or Cypriot tradition but when Pixie, from You say Tomahto, I say Tomayto, showed us a picture of her aunt in Malta, dressed in black, the conversation on this subject reveled that this is a tradition in nearly all the Mediterranean and other countries.
Apart from remembering my mother always in black, I mostly remember her suffering from her rheumatisms. She had a tough life raising six children and for four years she raised us alone as our father had gone to England to work. That’s when she got the rheumatisms when we joined our father in England four years later but the climate was not good for her health so we packed our clothes and returned back to Cyprus, to start a new life from scratch, but unfortunately my other brothers and sisters, staying back in London.
When my father was in England my eldest two sisters were engaged to get married and were the only ones who did not go to England. From the money our father would send, she managed to build two houses, one for each sister contributing herself in labour force. She became one of the labourers, making cement and whatever other help was needed and in between she would cook and feed both the family and the workers.
When my mother cooked she would cook only Cypriot traditional dishes, which of course after so many years of cooking she knew by heart, so I never saw her use a cook book nor did she write down her recipes anywhere. Only later on when my sisters got married and started creating new recipes from their cook books, when she liked them, then she would ask my sisters how to make them and she did.
She never had a mixer in her life but I remember those days when I was the only child staying with my parents, as the other three stayed back in London, I had to whisk the butter and sugar by hand. Can you imaging that. I used to say “Mum, is this okay, my hand hurts”, she would smile and say “Just a little bit more, honey, just a little bit more”. Again when she would roll out dough, again because she had problems with her hands she would always call me to help her and she would explain to me how to roll it out. Although she was in constant pain, I do not remember her ever complaining or ever not cooking with love and affection for all of us.
I don’t think that there is a person on earth that will not remember their mother with love. Whenever I remember her it’s not easy to hold my tears and I remember her a lot, especially with all the traditional food I cook and which I have learnt from her.
I will share many of her recipes in the future as well but today as I have nothing special prepared for this occasion, I have prepared something special with her favourite cheese: Halloumi. I marinated some dried fruit in a liqueur and grilled some halloumi which I served with fresh and marinated fruit and some honey.
Tags: Cheese, Cypriot, Cypriot cheese, Desserts
Ivy, beautifully written and expressed with so much love…thank you for sharing such a personal aspect of your life….(and thank you for the recipe).
Thanks, Peter for your kind words, I feel much better now that I have shared this with others.
Ivy, This is a beautiful dish to go with a beautiful story. Thanks for sharing your story of your life with your Mum with us.
I am in tears. Your mother must have been an amazing woman. Imagine living in a house built by your mother’s hands. That is truly love made visible.
Thank you for sharing this with us Ivy, and we look forward to many more stories.
Here I go again (tears in my eyes). Thanks very much for giving me this opportunity to express my feelings.
my mother died 2 days before yours, from what i just read in your post. my parents’ deaths were both due unfortunately to cancer, which is a great burden to bear when you have children yourself. my mother didn’t live to see any of her grandchildren, and my father wasn’t in a position to enjoy them in his condition
That’s sad to hear Maria. Did you also have the memorial today? My dad died 4 years before my mother but at least they were lucky to see their grandchildren.
What a beautiful written post in memory of your mother Ivy. I have tears in my eyes and its very evident your love for you mother from your writing. Thank you for sharing this with us. My own mother died in 2000 so I can fully relate to this post.
Rosie x
Thanks Rosie for the kind words of support. I am sure that if you wrote something for your mother it would turn out the same.
It was evident from your story that your mom was loved by many. Your stories are a real tribute to her love for you all. I think you carry on her spirit in your own heart through her recipes and the love you have for your own family every day.Thank you for sharing. I have also nominated you for an award so check out my blog when you have a moment «sis».
Thanks «sis» for your kind words, I just came back from your blog and you have given me great joy after a day full of tears. Thanks you.
Such nice memories of your mother. I wish you could be with your family at this time.
I think this dish would please her. I would love to try halloumi.
Ivy, this is a beautiful story (and a beautiful dish!). Your mother sounds like a wonderful, amazing woman. It’s no wonder you think about her so much.
Thanks Emiline and Elly for your kind words.
Ivy, this is such a heart-warming post. Your mother sounds like a sweet, strong and amazing woman. We never, ever get over the death of our mothers, do we? I love the recipe and I only recently discovered haloumi! Your blog is wonderful.
Thanks Jeni, you are right it’s difficult to get over it. Thanks for the kind words and for visiting.
As always I am the last to post a comment…. It was a moving story. I didn’t know she had another child that died. She still lives in our hearts… Take care.
Aww Ivy, you have brought tears to my eyes. Your mum would be so proud of you, what a lovely tribute to her. And your words were so beautifully written. I am so touched by the closeness the two of you have shared. Part of my reason for starting my blog is to record my mother’s recipes, she doesn’t really follow cookbooks either and so it’s my way of recording them for years to come. Lots of love to you and family.
Thanks baby.
You’ve moved me Ivy!!! What a hard life she had… and so many children… This was a Love Ode ♥ to your mom. Beautiful post.
Thanks for sharing your memories and feelings.
Thanks Nuria, hope your mum and everybody else’s mum will live for many years so that you will not need to write about it.
Pixie, your comment just came up too. I don’t know why this is happening and I don’t get all the comments at the same time. I am glad your doing this, Pixie, this is their legacy to us. Cherish it.
That sounds wonderful, really nice post.
Thank you Julie.
Ivy, what a lovely post – and your mother was obviously a wonderful woman and had a profoundly positive effect on your life. May her memory be eternal.
Hi Ivy…how beautifully you wrote that. Truly a remarkable & touching tribute to your mother.Am glad you have such lovely memories; could almost see you as a little girl whipping the butter & sugar by hand! Lovely recipe too. Take care dear girl…
Thanks Laurie for the comment.
Thanks Deeba, so sweet of you.
Hi Ivy,
How beautiful your post is about your mother.. I cannot keep back the tears while reading your story.. What a wonderful women she must have been.. Like mother like daughter.. when I met you Ivy.. I met a new friend.. one of pride, honesty, beauty and a wonderful heart.. Now that I have figured out how to get to your blog and how to leave a comment I will visit much more often,,, thanks Ivy for sharing your memeories of your mother with us… You really touched my heart… sharon
My dearest Sharon,
I am so glad you have visited and managed to leave a comment. Blogging makes us open our hearts and share things which would not have otherwise been said.
[...] Halloumi with dried fruit and honey [...]
[...] Halloumi with dried fruit and honey [...]