Monday, February 9, 2015

2015: The nearest thing to heaven

I've been doing a lot of reminsicing lately, and today I thought I'd trawl through this blog for old times sake. While I've been appalled at some of the dreadful prose - and me, a writer by trade - I'm now so damn glad I started.

I lost my mum just a month ago, and it's here I'm finding a ton of memories and thereby some crumbs of much-needed comfort.

It wasn't totally unexpected; she'd been ill on and off for a few years, but it still came far, far sooner than anyone thought and by rights she should have lived to a ripe old age. In the scheme of things, 76 is not a ripe old age. And life without her is hard. Really hard.

I'm discovering that this is what life is like without a parent. I know hundreds of people who've been through a similar thing, but only when it happens to you can you even begin to understand what people go through.

A light has gone out, a spark has been extinguished and will never shine again. I feel quite lost without her, a crushing grief that I fear will never end. Thankfully I have a wife who is an utter brick. I couldn't do this without her. My father and my brother are equally devastated. Dad has lost his devoted partner of 55 years. But it's brought us even closer together. Still, it's completely knocked me for six.

How does one move on from something like this? I know they mean well, but if one more person tells me time is a great healer I shall punch them in the nose. However, it wouldn't be a cliche if it wasn't true so there's clearly something in that. Others have said memories are a great comfort, and they're right. I'm smiling more than I'm crying, and in this blog lies a rich vein, full of anecdotes and songs that take me right back to the warm arms of childhood. Thank God I didn't delete it.

This is what we chose as her wicker coffin, strewn with daffodils was carried into the church. It was fitting. We had I Heard It Through The Grapevine on the way out. Neither of those songs will I ever hear in the same way again.

This has helped. Goodbye mum.

1 comment:

  1. Trying to offer words of comfort would be ridiculous of me.
    Losing parents is hard, bloody hard, you think they'll always be there for you. My sisters and me talk about Mum and Dad all the time, we find it helps and we always end up laughing.

    Take care.