The painful twist

Amy

Registered User
Jan 4, 2006
3,454
0
The painful twist for me has always been that the man I love and respected can no longer give me the advice when I most need it. He always knew what to do.
This struck a chord Craig.

Mum.
Where were you when I needed you?
Where are you now?
In the bad moments...just having you there, no matter how ill...was better than you not being there at all.
 

Kayla

Registered User
May 14, 2006
621
0
Kent
Dear Amy,
Although my mum died nearly a year ago, I still miss her and remember the chats we used to have before she was ill. I even got into a routine of almost enjoying the Nursing home visits, when I just sat with Mum for an hour or so, perhaps not saying very much but being together for a while.

There were times when Mum didn't recognise me, but usually she seemed to know who I was. Sometimes we played dominoes or looked at pictures in a book. Mum still had her sense of humour at the end of her life. She died suddenly, before we could even get to the hospital, so it doesn't really feel as if I said good bye properly.

My daughter is getting married in July and we are making all the preparations without my Mum and Mother-in-Law. They would have loved getting involved and we have chosen to have their favourite pink and white cottage garden flowers in the marquee and church. It is so sad that they will not be with us on the wedding day.

I feel like there is a huge gap in my life where Mum used to be, but it is as though nobody else really notices that she has gone. It would be good to talk to somebody else about Mum, but there are gradually fewer people around who remember her as she used to be.

It is hard to lose both parents, especially if, like me you are an only child. I sometimes feel quite isolated and miss having Mum to talk to about things that have happened to me during the week.

Take care,

Best wishes,

Kayla
 

Tina

Registered User
May 19, 2006
420
0
In the bad moments...just having you there, no matter how ill...was better than you not being there at all.

Substitute mum for aunty/nan/another relative to whom you were close, and it's right for me too :(

In the good moments, the happy times they are missing too. And knowing it "was all for the best" is so hard to reconcile with the loss sometimes.

The "where are you now?" question...well, I don't have an answer to that. Some people believe their loved ones are in a better place now, on a cloud, in the stars, looking down on us, watching us, and know what we get up to. Others say they can't feel them any more at all.

Me? Well, I can only speak for myself here. I still feel like I've been stabbed in the chest some days. I still cry. The great gaping hole is still a great gaping hole.

Yet the memories of the relatives I've lost are strong. While I don't know whether they're hovering over me, can see me, or are looking down at me from some cloud or the stars, I feel so much of them is still here. In things that happen to me, in things that I see, in things that I do. In the job, at home, in the studies. I don't know if they're "talking to me" now, but what they used to say to me, how they used to react in certain situation and how they always loved me and cared for me, listened and encouraged, joked and sympathised...all that is still here. And it keeps me going.

The words I still hear today may sound like platitudes... "keep going and do your best"..."it'll all work out in the end"..."don't worry so much, you'll be fine"..."I knew you could do it"...but the words came from special people, have a special meaning to me and were always genuine. I can still hear their voices when I close my eyes. When I open them again, I'm alone, and it hurts. I can't pick up the phone and ring them any more, and that hurts as well. But then again, I'm not really alone...

Before you start wondering if I've had anything other to drink than tea and fruit juice today...no, I haven't :D So I'll stop philosophising now, but it was good to get it off my chest anyway.

Thinking of you Helen, and everybody else on this part of the journey.
Love, Tina xx
 
Last edited:

Amy

Registered User
Jan 4, 2006
3,454
0
Having those people around gave some certainty in an uncertain world.
 

Mameeskye

Registered User
Aug 9, 2007
1,669
0
60
NZ
In the good moments, the happy times they are missing too. And knowing it "was all for the best" is so hard to reconcile with the loss sometimes.

This struck a chord with me as it reminded me so much of when I finally got pregnant and not being able to tell Dad who had died three years earlier, of my Mum not being excited when the boys reached each milestone and became star pupils at school....

Tina, I have found though that with time this is a sudden sharp pain that leaves as soon as it arrives, maybe a few minutes of grief and then life goes on. I think that this will be with me the rest of my life, but then if I didn't feel like this maybe I would not have had the earlier joy in my parents.

Mum.
Where were you when I needed you?
Where are you now?

Helen I have so felt like this as times since before the diagnosis of the awful illness stole my Mum away before my sons were born and left for years a living shell of the person she was. There are so many things I would love to chat to ehr about since becoming a mother and I can never do it.

But they are both there with me. I feel them in my movements, mannerisms, tastes, and sayings. I see them in my children and their expressions and movements. I truly believe that they live on through us.

But I wish they were here with us.

Mameeskye
 

Staff online

Forum statistics

Threads
138,152
Messages
1,993,496
Members
89,813
Latest member
Sharonmatthews1976