Wednesday, August 04, 2010

My Maw

I would like you to meet my Mum. That's her there. And me. She's prolly 24, I'm prolly, um, a few months? This is my favourite picture of us.

My Mum's a clever lady. She's a lawyer. Actually, she's a solicitor but a lot of you are international types and if I introduce her as a solicitor a lot of y'all are going to get the wrong idea. But that's what she is.

She's also a brave lady. She doesn't buy and sell houses or write up contracts or advise companies about how they can do bad things without actually breaking the law. (Not that lawyers do that, ever. Terribly noble profession don't you know.)

She represents people who can't afford representation. Sometimes that means she represents someone who is getting divorced or someone who hasn't paid their mortgage for a million months and wants to arrange some shady deal with 'a businessman from Down South'. But a lot of the time it means she represents people in horrible, desperate situations, people with stories that would make you feel kind of ill inside. Stories that would once you got home in the evening to what was supposed to be your time away from such things, would make you worry and fret and cry. And she puts her all into it. She puts her heart and her time and her love into it.

And she does this every. damn. day.
And I'm proud of her.
So very, very proud of her.