Since my mum passed away last Wednesday, I have been on such a rollercoaster of emotions that I actually felt giddy at one point yesterday, physically giddy. I went into work - briefly - and everyone was wonderful, but then the children from the local infant school came to sing carols and I had to leave, quickly.
I drove to Lakeside to look for a black suit and bright shirt for the funeral on Friday, and I've never felt so miserable in all my days of shopping for clothes. I made the big mistake of going into the Body Shop and putting some cream on my hands - the same one I used when I gave my mum a manicure in hospital five weeks ago - and I came out of the shop in tears.
I keep going over the last few months in my head and telling myself off for all the things I didn't do with her, or didn't do enough of and it's so painful. I forgot to thank her for the love and care she showered on me 20 years ago when I had my first son (and didn't have a clue what to do with him...) and I forgot to thank her (again) for helping us buy our first home.
Then this morning I got up and the sun came out, just as it did last Wednesday when she died - and I suddenly realised that I've got it the wrong way round....I should be remembering all the wonderful things we DID do together..our camping holiday in France in 2004 to celebrate her 60th birthday, when I would get up in the night when I heard her rustling her sleeping bag, chuck her in the wheelchair and rush her off to the toilets, often crashing into things and both of us bursting out laughing in the dead of night! (WE STAYED IN A TENT!!!) Our shopping trips to Lakeside and Bluewater where I would end up a laughing stock trying to carry tons of silly shaped objects and push a wheelchair! All our evenings sat in front of the box watching Silent Witness, Strictly Come Dancing and Heartbeat....the night when we watched that famous episode of the Apprentice where those wallies had to get the kosher chicken and they spoke of 'taking it to the mosque to get it blessed'...me and mum were still laughing an hour after the programme had finished!
I hope she knew how much I loved her, I really do, because she was so brave and accepting about her situation that we didn't have big crying sessions together, we sat and reminisced and laughed together and I don't know now if she will have understood that inside I was heartbroken.
I hope this pain will subside at some point, because it hurts so much xxxxx (As always, I feel so much better for writing this down.)
Love, Hannah xxxx (PS Give your mums a huge cuddle from me!)
FormerMember
Thank you for sharing your memories of Mum with us. You're quite right to focus on all the good things you shared, otherwise you would be forever beating yourself up. Nobody's perfect! You were able to share something precious with your Mum and I'm sure she knew how you were feeling but wanted you to be happy. She would have been very happy when she was able to be of help with your son and the house.
Be brave and get through the funeral and then you will be able to focus on your happy memories. I lost a Gran on Christmas Eve many years ago and it was awful, the world carried on enjoying the festivities while in our house nothing would be the same again. Thinking of you and sending you a big hug and lots of love.
I'm typing this with tears in my eyes, so can't see the keys. Of course your Mum knew you loved her and you would not have needed to thank her for caring for you, just as she wouldn't have needed to thank you for caring for her. I can clearly remember those moments when a song or a film or a scent would remind me of my parents and reduce me to tears, and sometimes it can be the most tenuous of links and you are in tears - but thats fine.
I think remembering the great, wonderful, funny things is a great way of coping - it worked for me. For my mums funeral we put together a CD of her favourite songs ( I still can't listen to Ava Maria without gettng a lump in my throat), and her instructions were no black at her funeral, we had to wear happy clothes. The road my parents lived on went round in a circle and it was only when we were all in the cars and on our way, with a convoy of other cars behind us that we realises we left the CD behind and would have no music at the crem. There was a mad scramble to stop the convoy while we checked pockets and bags, which blocked half the road meaning no one could get round the cresecent, get out of the car and run back to the house with everyone in the other cars and the neighbours gazing at us in bemusement. It seemed a bit disrespectful, but the thought of my Mums reaction just made us all giggle. I now find last of the summer wine funny, because I remember my Dad laughing at it - the two policemen get me every time.
Someone gave me this when my Mum passed away, no idea who wrote it - but it always comforts me if I feel down because its about someone staying alive in out memories.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there, I do not sleep
I am the thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle Autumnal rain
When you waken in the morning hush
I am the soft uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight
I think that you've been very strong & that your mum would be very proud of you, I have a saying that when you love someone it expresses perfectly - truly madly deeply forever, I will be thinking of you on Friday, stay strong my friend memories last forever.
