A year without my Mum

52 weeks and 365 days. Have they been my worst? Possibly not; but it has definitely been 365 days of wishing that somehow, I could turn the clocks back.

So, here are ten things (because 10 is a nice round number, isn’t it?) I’ve done/learnt in this time.

  1. Felt guilty. I’ve felt guilty when I’ve laughed, and when I’ve smiled. I’ve felt guilty when I’ve got out of bed each day with ease, and when I’ve gone to work like nothings changed. Most of all, I’ve felt guilty about not crying enough. Not struggling enough and not falling apart enough. I feel like surely the way I  grieve should mirror how much I love my Mum, and if I seem alright on the surface, and I’m  just carrying on, maybe people will think I didn’t love her as much as I know I did.

2. I’m busy. The only time I’ve ever been busier is when I was caring for my Mum. These days I can find any job to do. Dust something, clean something, hoover everything. I don’t know if this helps, I don’t know if its because I’ve carved a new role for myself in Mum’s absence, I don’t know if its that I’m trying to be like her by doing all the bits she used to do. But, I find it gives me some purpose and keeps me from sitting and thinking.

3. I’ve felt lost. 99% of the time in those 365 days, I’ve felt lost. I explained it to a friend as a bubble, floating around on its own without a direction. Without Mum’s guidance I’m unsure of the next steps to take in life, whether it be job, city to live in or this years winter coat. Unknowingly, my Mum’s opinion and views on most things guided me through many of my choices no matter how big or small. Slowly, I’m starting to trust my own judgement more and that of others, but it fails to dissipate the continual ache of ‘What would Mum say?’

4. ‘Talk to someone’ doesn’t help unless I’ve drunk half a bottle of wine. I have had hours of counselling this year (of which I’m hugely grateful for). Yes, counselling has made some difference, but I do not sit there and pour my heart out. I can’t. Once again, my body or my brain will not let me go there because I am so scared of facing the hurt.

5. I’ve found out who my real friends are. Its true. They say that you find out who really sticks by you when you hit your lowest times and it seems to be the case. My eyes have been opened to the people I call my friends this year. A few, have been incredible and many have been useless, even awful. The silver lining of which, is that you get rid of the latter and invest more in those good ‘uns.

6. All you need is love. At the end of the day, at the end of your days, it is people you need to be surrounded by. Their love are what you breathe and fight for. Their love is what keeps you company when you most need it.

7. Little moments that get you. I can be fine until I see a beautiful photo of my Mum that I’ve not seen in years, when all the memories come flooding back and the ache pushes itself to the surface. Then I’m a mess.

8. You can’t recover all at once. Routines will fall apart and you might fall apart, but I have to trust yourself and time. I loved running, not only because it kept me slim, but mainly because it was time on my own with my thoughts where I could make plans or go over the days events. I still haven’t got back into a running routine. Too scared to have that time to think, I might try a run now and again when I’m feeling brave and overly fat but I’m yet to get back to trusting myself that I can run without falling apart. I guess its just another chunk that will come in time.

9. There are some really, really dark days. I’ve had days where I’ve been arguing with everyone, not spoken to friends for days and not spent any time looking after myself and everything becomes too much. Its on these days that I feel sorry for myself, and feel angry for Mum. Its on these days that I can’t see a future where I will be happy again without my Mum in my life. These days come, and thankfully they go, but only with the help of others.

10. I miss my Mum. I hate that time moves on and that with each day I am further away from my last with my Mum. Missing her doesn’t diminish over time, and I hope it never does.

 

Any of these resonate with any of you?