Little Mum's been gone just over two years, and although I did my mourning long before her death, every now and again I have a spasm of missing her that surprises with its intensity. It's not unpleasant, just a brief longing and sadness that I'll never be able to hold her hand or hear her voice again - I'm sure you know how it is, and how I have my memories of the person she was and never ceased to be to the end of her long life, and they are a comfort.
She had an innate goodness, an extraordinary quality a religious person might call a real purity of heart. Everyone felt it who came into contact with her for any length of time or with any frequency. There was nothing soft, or sentimental, or showy about it, and one thing she wasn't was a saint. She had the family temper - bro and I have both got it. It took a lot to make her lose it but when I was the adolescent from hell I definitely had the knack. Once when I'd goaded her beyond endurance she bent a baking-tray over my head - I don't know who was more surprised, her or me.
But the point is this. Her love was unshakeable. And we could not have had a better example of a life well and modestly lived. It was a lifelong privilege to have known her, and it was also a privilege - perhaps a greater one - to have been able to support her as she grew old. She looked out for us when we couldn't look out for ourselves, and I'm so very glad I could do the same for her when she needed it.
Mercifully she was spared the end stages of Alzheimer's, but with everything it took from her she never forgot two things: she never forgot who I was and she never forgot how much she loved me.
You're safe home now Mum, reunited with Dad, your Ed, and every day I'm grateful for the blessing of your love.
Your Ruthie X
She had an innate goodness, an extraordinary quality a religious person might call a real purity of heart. Everyone felt it who came into contact with her for any length of time or with any frequency. There was nothing soft, or sentimental, or showy about it, and one thing she wasn't was a saint. She had the family temper - bro and I have both got it. It took a lot to make her lose it but when I was the adolescent from hell I definitely had the knack. Once when I'd goaded her beyond endurance she bent a baking-tray over my head - I don't know who was more surprised, her or me.
But the point is this. Her love was unshakeable. And we could not have had a better example of a life well and modestly lived. It was a lifelong privilege to have known her, and it was also a privilege - perhaps a greater one - to have been able to support her as she grew old. She looked out for us when we couldn't look out for ourselves, and I'm so very glad I could do the same for her when she needed it.
Mercifully she was spared the end stages of Alzheimer's, but with everything it took from her she never forgot two things: she never forgot who I was and she never forgot how much she loved me.
You're safe home now Mum, reunited with Dad, your Ed, and every day I'm grateful for the blessing of your love.
Your Ruthie X