And so it’s almost 2018. Just over a hour to go and it’ll be the 2nd one without you.
It’s been 1 year 10 days since you left. And I hurt. I think of you everyday.
And people don’t seem to get it. “It’s been a year”. They expect me to be over it. And that makes it hurt more. They expect me to be over it because they don’t know how to handle it. Well heres’ what. Rest your hand on my shoulder and give me a squeeze. Give me a cuddle. Offer me a tissue. I don’t need words. I need acknowledgement that no matter how much time passes I can miss her. That I can sit and cry. Because I’m being tied in knots by others inability to understand that before 21st December 2016 SHE lived. That just because she died it doesn’t mean she didn’t exist
I LOST MY MUM DAMMIT. And it hurts. And I try to pretend I don’t, because it’s easier for others. And I’ve had enough. I no longer care if it makes others uncomfortable. Big deal. If you don’t like it, then turn around and walk away. No longer will I grieve for my Mum in secret. Like it’s something dirty to be hidden away.
I MISS MY MUM. I CRY FOR MY MUM. I ACHE FOR MY MUM. A piece of my soul died that day. But guess what. I have my memories. I have my photos. And forever, she will live in me. And when my time comes, my mum and I will live through my sons and grandchildren. Through all eternity.
I miss you old lady xx