It’s pretty shit. Life without my mum. As I’m sure those in the same position having lost, or maybe not even known theirs, will agree.
With Mother’s Day just around the corner, I felt the need to acknowledge the sad reality that is the above, not to throw shade on a day of happiness, but more as a reality check and a tribute to their memory.
The hard bit.
I’ve lost both my parents. Six months apart. As much as I loved them equally and as difficult as Christmas Day can be behind the scenes (for this is when I lost my dad), I feel maybe more so with being a female myself that the loss of my mum hurts that little bit more. She carried me. Birthed me. Nursed me. That mother and daughter bond is irreplaceable.
Around the time of her diagnosis and passing, our relationship was at a point of change: I’d begun to find my way. Become independent. Look to the future. Had a stable job and income. A new level of respect had formed, on both sides. Though that relationship and journey was to be cut short.
I know before she passed, the prospect of her not being around for all that was still to come in both our lives saddened her, it did me. We both had so much more to experience together.
- She never got to formally meet the man I call my husband.
- She never got to see me become a mum, once and soon to be twice.
- She never got to see that I finally got to ‘work with children’, as I’d always said was what I wanted to do, by becoming a preschool/early years teaching assistant.
- She never got to see what this little hobby of a blog/site has become and how I’m following in her footsteps, in some ways, as it’s an extension to her former job of being a journalist.
- She’ll never get to see that I can actually cook more than eggy bread.
- She’ll never now be that one person I could call to get a straight answer from.
- She’ll never get to see that I’ve inherited the “don’t you dare” and “I don’t think so” look from her. The look that says a thousand words without saying a single one.
And much much more.
Though for every ‘never’, there’s really a positive behind it. The points above are actually my accomplishments. They are things that I have achieved in my life, though through my own doing, but ultimately, because of her.
My mum gave me some amazing life skills and experiences over the years that may not have made any sense or I may have brushed off at the time, but in hindsight, were gold. Those moments when you say something, then realise you sound like your mum?! Yeah, those.
Losing someone never becomes easier. I believe it honestly gets harder, as, well, life changes. You change. And in those moments of uncertainty or even those of happiness, it’s generally a parent we turn to.
But life does go on. I for one have chosen to live my life and give my best possible self to my husband and my boy(s), but that’s not to say I’ve forgotten.
So here’s to all the mums out there. Past and present. Forever in our hearts.