I first heard the term motherless mother when another Mum casually mentioned it to me at a party one day. My daughter was about a year old at the time and I must admit, I don’t think I’d fully articulated what it meant to be a Mum without a Mum, until that very moment. But all of a sudden, there it was. My loss had endowed upon me a heartbreaking title; I was a Motherless Mother. I was born into your average middle class/leftie/hippie family. Well, average if you consider your parents still wearing flares in the late 80’s normal. My parents valued education, love, natural health and good times (and not necessarily in that order). I was the eldest of three, and we lived a happy life; traipsing through paddocks, riding horses, and trying to solve the never ending challenge of how try sneak junk food into the house without being caught. Dad worked long hours, and so did Mum. But even so, it was Mum who made our lunches, our basketball games, and our …