Wednesday, 24 February 2010
It’s almost a calendar year since my mother passed away yet her absence haunts me daily. Wearing her beautiful ring is at times a comfort and at other times my heart aches when I remember how she wore it on special occasions and how she looked after it. Then I want to take it off and keep it out of sight. I am plagued with regret that I live so far away that I couldn’t visit more often to lighten her last years. Should I have left my own family to fend for themselves and gone more often as she wished? I don’t know. I’ll never know: I think that I did my best. She had my dad, but they were both so deaf they had long since ceased to be company for each other, especially as my dad was virtually blind as well. I am haunted by her last weeks when my brother and I watched her waste away. She couldn’t speak so we didn’t know if she was in pain. It was terrible to see. She looked straight into my eyes when she drew her last breath and then she was just not there. I don’t know where she has gone. I have as yet no belief in the hereafter. It’s dust to dust for me. One day the grief will fade and I’ll think of the good times. I hope it won’t be too long. I don't want to spoil anyone's day - sorry. I'll be OK tomorrow. I told her I had tried to make her garden nice and mow the lawn. I think she heard that but there wasn't much left of her gardening skills. These are real pics.