For Mother’s Day, we asked our community of Facebook followers ‘Whats your mum’s story?’ The responses came in by the hundreds and we were overwhelmed with the amazing stories being shared.

So much so that we decided to immortalise as many stories we could in a unique design just for that person. Have a look at a few of the stories and designs below. Click on our blog link to see more!

More info: blog.thebookofeveryone.com

When at uni and living in Spain I used to phone my mam if I was walking home on my own at night. She would talk to me until I got home safe. These phone calls usually occurred between midnight and 3am.

My mum always gave me the most amazing birthday parties, but the best was Alice in Wonderland themed with a mad hatters tea party and a big food fight afterwards!

When I was about 10 years old, My mum came to watch me play hockey. I got into a fight with the biggest kid on the other team and all I can remember as I was spreadeagled on the floor having punches rained down on me is Dad hanging onto the ankles of my mum as she tried to climb over the glass to get at him!! ( at least I hope it was at him)…

I moved 200 miles away from home when I was 17 or so. Broke my mums heart. I used to take a big bag of washing home on public transport. It was more difficult to carry it home than wash it myself, but I knew it made my mum feel better.

My mum loved her push bike. She cycled everywhere. When I was in school i started playing the french horn. It was so heavy to carry my mum would meet me at the school gates and take it home balanced on her bike. The big black case it was in made it look like she was cycling round town with a toilet 😀

My mom was cleaning out some stuff and found a dress that looked covered in blood and broke into tears. I was quite worried until I realized she was having tears of laughter as she requested I get my dad. She then told me it was the dress she wore the night of her engagement party. My father and her got drunk and being a hopeless romantic my dad requested if there was anything she always wanted to do. My mom decided she wanted to paint a large globe light outside of the police station blood red. She was never caught. Miss you mom, you taught me to be a rebel for a story.

I remember my Mum widowed young in the 1950’s with two young children – no benefits, no widow’s pension, no help with rent – so we moved to a lesser rented property. To make ends meet, Mum walked with plastic bags over her shoes to keep the snow out. We were dependent on friends and family and because of them we had holidays with our cousins in the country where we could pick blackberries, help get the cows up for milking, and watch a blacksmith at work. Mum worked hard for us, and even now at the age of 92 insists on giving us a wonderful Sunday roast from time to time – bless.

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