missing

I’m missing Herself.

She would know more than me about stuff.

Like girls growing up.

And caravans.

Or what to wear in this weather.

How to wear red shoes without being self concious.

.

I could tell her about the cute toddler in the pretty dress, or the beautiful handbag with butterflies I just saw.

She’d have the girls dancing for her and drawing for her and telling her all their important things.

I’d be looking for clothes for her, and complaining about the latest communication crisis.

I’d be texting the Brother a flurry of bad words as something incomprehensible and serious happened.

I’d be eating a lot of cake.

She’d be laughing at pink plastic wine glasses.

I miss my mum.

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21 thoughts on “missing”

  1. It’s not your responsibility to manage my emotions, Fiona, so keep writing and sharing, even if I weep a little! I’m tearful this morning reading this…I think of the bond between my daughter and granddaughters and any interruption of this would tear my heart out. Of course you miss Herself! It’s on that long list of “life is not fair” that I find too much! Please accept this far-away hug–I wish I could give it to you in person. (((( ))))) Debra

  2. Have you got her photo on the Fridge door? That way you can talk to her every time you cross the kitchen. I don’t need the photo, my mother peers at me from every mirror in the house.

    1. I think it’s mounting up at the minute because her first anniversary is next week and I’m revisiting long stressful days in the hospital… I’m a lot better than I was, just wobbling x

  3. You did a wonderful job with her, not just in real life but here, making her a real person to us who we grieved for when she went.
    You loved her so much, so you will miss her. But you will always remember her too.
    x

  4. I’m just catching up Fiona and this has made me stop in my tracks. It is beautiful. I must make more fuss of my mum while I still have her. x

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