ON Thursday night I curled up in bed with my two young daughters and felt them fall asleep with their little arms around my neck.
As my seven-year-old drifted off, her tired voice whispered to me: ``Mum, I'm the luckiest''.
I spent a bit longer in their room that night, quietly wiping tears from my eyes as I treasured the moment ... and thought about the fact that indeed it was me, who was lucky.
And then I started thinking about my own mum, and at that moment I wanted to put my arms around her neck.
There comes a time when we move past the point where we love our mum because she takes us to the park and makes our favourite treats.
As adults, we recognise our love for our mother is a much deeper, understanding love.
We recognise what they have sacrificed, what they have given and where they have come from.
I look at my mum now and see a strong, amazing woman who has lived through much but said little; a woman who gives and expects nothing in return; a woman who was and always will be the rock of our family.
The thing I love most about mum is that while she is always there, she has also let us go.
Mum doesn't smother us, nor try to influence our decisions.
She never judges, never criticises our actions and never interferes.
She doesn't try to live her life through us.
She is respectful of our choices, and can tell you we've made some shockers.
When we fall, she is there. When we laugh, she is not laughing with us but smiling because we're happy.
After all, as mum often says, all she wants is for her children to be happy. And she actually means it.
Neither material possessions nor money mean much to mum, and that's how we were raised.
We were blessed to be given a mother who was born to be just that.
In fact, mum wanted enough babies to form a Scout pack (yes, that's true).
So, while she didn't quite get the pack, mum and dad have enjoyed a big family.
And for that, I consider myself pretty lucky _ in big families you learn to love, to share, to grow without being smothered and to be independent.
And with that, comes security.
A close family is not necessarily one that sees each other every day _ it's a family where you are so secure in your love for each other that you can go weeks without talking, but pick up the phone and chat like you saw each other the same day.
It's where you are so secure that you would drop anything and fly to the other end of the earth should the need arise, even if you haven't had time to talk for whatever reason.
Mum has given us a family where I know that I can phone any of my brothers or sisters tomorrow and ask them to drop whatever it is, and they would come.
Yet my youngest brother is in Western Australia, and I haven't seen him for more than a year.
My other brother and I don't catch up very often, but we love each other to bits.
My sisters are my best friends, but we only see each other when we can spare a minute in our own busy lives.
None of us, however, ever frown on each other for not making the effort. We do when we can, and we're okay with that.
And it was mum who taught us that.
It was mum who gave us the courage and strength to be ourselves, to respect our siblings and their choices, to be forgiving, to be accepting and to be whatever we wanted to be.
It was mum who wanted us to be happy.
And we are - thanks to you, mum.
``Mum, I'm the luckiest'' _ Happy Mother's Day.
Nicole Ferrie is the Advertiser's Deputy Editor.
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