Hey Mum,
How you doing? Can you hear me? I hope so. I have to hope you can, because the alternative is too horrible to believe.
I can’t believe it’s approaching one year since you went. It’s already been over a year since I had my last conversation with you. And what a shitty last few conversations they were. I know I’ve already talked to you lots about that, I’m not going to talk about it now, you already know.
I miss you so much. Everything feels so much harder without you here. I hate how much I didn’t recognise the importance you played in making everything better, and easier, and more enjoyable. I hate that those last few years were so tainted by treatment and expectations and conflict. I wish I could remember more of our lives pre treatment, but sometimes it feels like I can’t. Hopefully over time I will.
People say time heals but I really don’t think it does. It just increases the size of the canyon between life before and life after. And people who don’t know, think that eventually that canyon becomes so big that you forget that there’s a canyon between two parts and instead it just becomes the edges of your new beginning. But people who know, know. You never forget it’s a canyon, and the growing size of the canyon just becomes more and more painful as you miss out on more and more new memories. Time doesn’t heal, it just strengthens the grief.
I think you’d be really proud of us, my little family. Husband has just got a new job, I know how much you were always rooting for him. Baby’s so happy and I’m a great mum, I know that. I guess when you’re shown unconditional love it’s easy to pass that on.
I sometimes wish I could be a kid again reliving some of our memories, when I was innocent and naive, I didn’t know how complex and flawed humans were, I didn’t yet have memories that are painful to think about. I have to remind myself that I’m human too, and I’m complex and flawed, and that’s ok, even if it means I hurt you sometimes when I didn’t mean to. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t even nearly express how I feel about the times when I did hurt and upset you. If I had known what little time I had with you I know I’d have used it differently.
I try not to focus too much on the injustice of it all, but sometimes I can’t help but feel angry. I feel angry for you. If anybody deserved to live it was you. You were so desperate to survive and I know you would have done anything to not have your life taken away from you. And that does make me really mad, for you. It’s really shitty and unfair.
You were so brave, Mum. I don’t think I ever told you that. I think our family’s complex relationship with emotions meant I never told you anything positive during your treatment, choosing instead to focus on the things you did that I didn’t agree with. And I’m so sorry that happened, I’m so sorry we all have the emotional range of a gnat. But you were incredibly brave. I know how much pain you were in, physically and emotionally, but you never let that stop you. That’s true bravery, that’s what makes a warrior. That’s what I aspire to be, to be you.
Do you know that I got a little tattoo tribute for you? A small red robin, so you’re always with me. And it’s right by my heart, because that’s where I carry you, always.
I wish I could talk to you. I know you believed in spiritualists, I’m thinking of exploring it too, just so I can connect with you. Wouldn’t it be amazing if we could carry on talking even though you’re not here as you were before?
It’s about an hour away from the worst minute of my entire life. A girl should never have to lose her mum young, and go through her life without her mum there. I don’t get to ask you for parenting tips, I don’t get to moan to you about the men in my life. There will always be a massive void in my life, Mum, a beautiful mum shaped void.
If I could go back and freeze time I would. If I could go back to just one minute before you passed, just to hold you and savour you I would. I’d freeze time forever if it just meant you wouldn’t go. If it meant you’d stay with me forever.
I love you so much, Mum. I will always love you so much. I just want to scream it out to the universe, in case you’ll hear.
I really really love you, Mum.
