My Dad died when I was a little boy, my mum was an older mum.
Me and my brother were typical boys and then difficult teenagers. By the time I was a teenager mum was in her fifties and had some joint problems. I remember (and am ashamed) one day shouting at her because she struggled with getting downstairs.
I don’t know how my mum coped and loved us despite everything. I’m now the age my mum was back then and I can’t imagine how she managed.
I would give anything to go back, give her the support she deserved and say sorry.