16 weeks… 113 days… 2712 hours… 162,720 minutes. Time continues to pass by at the speed of light, yet sometimes it feels as though the clock remains stuck on 11.
It’s hard to comprehend that it has been 16 weeks on Saturday since my darling mum left the Earth for a much better place. People keep saying that time is a great healer, but to be honest, the pain seems to worsen as time goes on. I seem to be stumbling through life at the moment trying to do all the things I need to do, still trying to find my spark which went the day I lost my best friend. Some days are better than others, but the smile, laugh and ‘getting on with it’ attitude is entirely a facade.
Last weekend, I was going through mum’s drawers and found these two cards wrapped up together, which I’ve never seen before. I took it as a sign from mum, but it hit me like a ton of bricks – that overwhelming feeling of grief. I cried and cried, overwhelmed with the thought of never seeing her smiling face again. It hurts so, so much.
While I’m reluctantly accepting this new, strange and uncomfortable life without mum’s physical presence, I’ve also accepted the fact that I’m never going to get over losing mum. Others say they do, but I know I won’t – especially with the relationship that we had. She waited so long for me to enter her life, and I only wish that I had her for longer in mine – though no time would ever be long enough.
I’m lucky and blessed to have a close group of family and friends I can call upon anytime of the day, and many other people who have been so kind to me. In one sense it helps, but in another it doesn’t. As the door closes and I come home, the place feels empty. I feel empty. Life feels so lonely.
Work keeps me busy, and at times it is the last thing I want to do, but it does help as a distraction. Yet, sometimes, it feels as though I’m drowning. I’ve certainly contributed to some of the wet weather we’ve seen recently too. The tears come when you least expect them – when I hear a song, or watch a film, or visit somewhere we both used to love. There have been tears on planes, trains, in the car, in the shops, and in restaurants, and I’m sure there’ll be many more of those too.
Aside from the overwhelming sadness and grief which has consumed me, I’ve also experienced anger and resentment at a totally new level. Not just towards the fact that I’ve lost my mum, but when I see others treating their loved ones badly. So many other people, many years older than me, are so, so privileged to still have their mums on this Earth, yet seem so wrapped up with their own agendas that they forget about them – and that makes me incredibly angry. I would do anything to have my mum back, and I wish others realised how lucky they are before it’s too late.
Grief also makes you do strange things – well, you may say strange, I don’t think they are. Just like when she was here, I talk to mum all of the time – in my head and out aloud. It’s the only thing that helps – to keep her alive in my heart, soul and mind. I still keep picking up my phone when I’m out to call her – a habit that will take some time to not do; just like when I’m stuck, and I would turn to mum and say, ‘what should I do?’ I still do it, but hearing her answer is harder than before.
One attitude which has changed since mum passed away is actually something I think she’d be rather pleased at. I’ve always been a perpetual worrier – to the surprise of many! However, a lot of those worries and anxieties have gone, quite literally. I care deeply about a lot of things, but then for a lot of other things, I’ve come to the conclusion that I really don’t give one anymore! Nothing seems to phase me now. The worst thing that could possibly happen to me, has happened. So whatever else life has to throw at me, it can gladly do so, and I’ll greet it with open arms… or a baseball bat!
I’ve tried to write, but I’ve struggled over the last few months, particularly about mum. I only need to write ‘mum’ and there are tears rolling down my face. However, I’m determined to write more about my incredible mum, and the beautiful person she was and always will be, as well as all of the things which have happened to us as a family and the things I want to change in the world. So this is a start, at least. Because, everything I do will always be for you, mum – and I hope it makes you proud.
A mother is your first friend, your best friend, your forever friend.”