I'm such a dark shade of blue, I'm practically purple. I don't know what's wrong...
I know, because I've posted such words on others' threads, that grief comes in many forms and it takes time...but I am shocked at the range of emotions I'm experiencing.
5 months now since mum died. Gosh, such a rush of tears just typing those two words. Mum died. What? MY mum? I can only describe this as a blanket or a "mist" of loss wrapping itself round me, and some days it's so thick that I can barely breathe. Mum is occupying every spare piece of my mind, and though it sounds so cliche, it's no lie that I have thought of my mum every single day since she died. I can't seem to get through a day without thinking of her. And I mean literally a day.
I don't think of her with dementia. I think of the mum at my wedding, the mum when I was growing up, the mum who I rang everyday for a chat. Suddenly she has broken through the memories of recent years and all the forgotten days.
It wasn't like this at first. I thought I was so strong. I accepted and coped very well, very quickly, and I was philosophical about mum's illness and the reason I had lost her. The build up and subsequent loss made more sense then than the overwhelming sense of grief now that I have time to accept she's no longer here. I won't see her again. Ever.
I know this is grief talking. The human being talking would say that it was the right order of things; naturally I would have lost my mum first; she was terribly ill; she needed to be spared more pain; it was a long goodbye; I grew used to her not being in my life; I was losing her over time; it came as no shock.... But my heart is breaking and I can't believe I don't have my mum anymore.
No words can make me feel any different, I just needed so badly to get this off my chest. If you read this and can relate to it, then you can rest assured you are not alone. I know I'm not the only one, but some days I just feel there's another long road ahead. I've only just left one long journey...
On Friday, I saw a woman who could have been my mum. I only saw her from the back but she was wearing trousers and a red cardigan that could have been my mum's, her hair all dark and curly, with silver specks. I couldn't take my eyes off her. I was glued to capturing just a moment of pretence. To imagine that really was my mum...just walking away to buy something, then to come back and join me for a cup of tea at the cafe. That shaped my day, and as the heavy teardrops plopped onto my lap, I realised this grief thing was reaching a new stage.
I'll get through it. For my children and my husband. For myself and for my parents. But I've realised I need to take as much time as I need before it gets any easier. If I acknowledge that, it's a start. I want a happy life, but I can't push aside the immense feeling of sadness, loss and emptiness that losing a parent leaves. Mum and dad may be together now, but they're no longer with me, and I find that incredibly hard to take.