Like Nicole Kidman, I was not prepared for the heartache of losing my mum

There were many times I wished my mum would die.

They were mostly when she was crying out in pain in the last two months of her life, her body withering from the ravages of that damned cancer and the light in her eyes gradually dimming. But however fervently I wished that it would all end quickly, just as she did, I was in no way prepared for what a hole her death would leave in our lives, and what pain those left behind would suffer as a result.

Nicole Kidman accepts the international star award for Babygirl during the 36th annual Palm Springs International Film Festival awards gala last week.Credit: AP

So when Nicole Kidman made an emotional tribute to her late mother as she dedicated her newest award to the parent she said shaped her, guided her, and made her what she is today, all of us who have lost mums knew instantly what she was going through.

Her beloved mother, Janelle, died in September last year, so for Nicole the grief will still be suffocating, overwhelming. We could see that in her face, of course, in the tears she wiped away, in the tremble in her voice.

She might well be celebrated these days as one of the world’s great actors, becoming in 2024 the first Australian to earn an AFI Life Achievement Award, but her tribute was a performance as visceral and genuine as any she has ever done for the cameras.

“I’m sorry that I’m crying,” she said at the 2025 Palm Springs International Film Festival on Friday (US time) as she accepted the award for her new movie Babygirl. “I didn’t want to do that. But I feel my mum right now, so this is for you.”

Last year, at the Venice Film Festival where she’d won the best actress award for the same film, she left early on hearing of her mum’s passing. “My heart is broken,” she said afterwards.

At Palm Springs, she made up for it. “I didn’t get to do it at the Venice Film Festival,” she said. “Thank you for giving me the chance to say this is for my mum. My whole career has been for my mum and dad … They’ve given me the resilience, they’ve given me the love, and they’ve given me the strength to keep moving forward.”

There are few things as devastating as the death of one’s mother. Before I lost mine, in November 2023, I never really understood why so many people marked the anniversaries of bereavements so faithfully on social media. I didn’t appreciate the depths of their despair, and gratitude. I had no idea how much a heart could actually ache.

For there’s a special place in whatever heaven you believe in for mothers. They’re nearly always the most important people in all our lives, the person who’s done the most to mould us, to give us the best advice, to empathise, to comfort us in the bad times, to truly, madly, deeply delight in our triumphs.

Nicole Kidman in 2003 at the Sydney premiere of her film Cold Mountain, with her mother, Janelle, who died in September, and her father, Antony, who died of a heart attack in 2014. Credit: Getty Images

They’re usually pretty selfless too. “Every child needs to know that they’re the most important person in at least one person’s life,” that champion of kids Father Chris Riley of Youth Off the Streets, always said. For most of us, that’s our mothers.

For me, it was certainly my mum. She was funny – always ready to giggle – brave and adventurous. She was the first to hurtle down on a flying fox on a family holiday; the first to suggest any fun excursion. And even though she was terrified of the thought of hot air balloons, when we bought her a birthday ride on one, having no idea of her secret fear, she stepped up, albeit grim-faced, and did it.

When I once suggested taking her on holiday, I asked her where she’d like to go, thinking it’d be Noosa or Tassie. It was Japan. The next time: Russia. And the third and, tragically, last trip we did: India. She’d never liked curry, but gamely tried, and laughed even as the tears streamed down her face.

She was a beautifully gentle person too, although she could be fierce when crossed. Her elder sister and a friend visited her one year from England and, after a series of rows with them on holiday, a family legend was forged when Mum turfed them, and their suitcases, out of the car, left them both on the side of the road in outback Queensland, and simply drove off back to Sydney.

Janelle Kidman sounds as if she was a similarly big character in the lives of Nicole and her sister, Antonia. She encouraged them in their chosen careers and was even, Nicole says, her toughest critic, helping to build her resilience. Along with that, she celebrated their successes, was there for them on the break-ups of their first marriages, and cheered when they made happy matches the second time around.

So while losing your mother causes so much pain, you just have to try to remember how lucky you were to have them for however long you did. That old chestnut that grief is the price you pay for love? It’s never more evident than in the loss of a loving mother.

Sue Williams is a freelance writer.

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