There comes a stage in your life when your mother moves from being your elder to being your friend. It can be a bit of a painful transition – that's when you feel the shame of your selfish youth – but it's also a beautiful one because it results in a true appreciation of who your mother really is and what she has done for you over the years. For a lot of women, this happens when they become mothers themselves. It's that moment of realisation: everything she silently did; now you must do.

For me, this has occurred in a number of stages throughout my life and my mother's, and it's a continuing story. I still speak to my mum almost every day, mostly just to chat, but sometimes to really pull apart a problem – I still need to hear her reassurances. As I've grown older, I've also had the privilege of watching my mum grow. I've watched her gain independence and confidence. I've seen her realise how intelligent she really is, build a business with my father, make true friends and rediscover old ones, and now heroically support my father through his battle with cancer. Still, to this day, she is unwaveringly interested in my life, and I have to make a concerted effort to stop the conversation becoming all about me and make sure she spends some time focusing on herself when we speak.

I guess that's why Mother's Day isn't an occasion we grow out of; in fact, it can be something we grow into. We can never put into words how deep and constant our love is, so we try and verbalise it with the gifts we give – which is why buying a Mother's Day present can be so difficult. This is when the old saying "It's the thought that counts" really rings true. The gift is just a symbol of a thousand words. It's not my mother who is difficult to buy for; it's her role in my life that's difficult to wrap up in a package.

Happy Mother's Day!

Wendy