Despite the fact that I write this isolating in my little room awaiting my PCR result at 01:00 on New Years day, I choose to believe that 2022 is going to be an amazing year. After all, we’ve gotten this far, haven’t we?
As a child, December was my favourite month. From the 5th to the 9th, using all of my willpower, I used to save up my advent calendar chocolates. On the morning of the 10th, sleepy eyed, I would sit in between my parents as Mum would give me my birthday presents and I would indulge in the chocolates that I had been saving for my big day.
How could I still be listening out, just in case Mum needed me?
I felt emotionally exhausted and wanted the opportunity to transfer this emotional struggle into a physical challenge that I could overcome, learn and develop from.
Now I am faced with life after Mum. Life without Mum, with myself, a stranger, who still bases their decisions on what their Mum would do.
I am looking forward to the photography opportunities, the cold wind and then being cosy and warm indoors. 🤍
That’s one of the most difficult things about losing my mum, I just want to tell her how difficult life is without her in it.
Learning about grief has taught me to advocate for myself which, has helped people to help me, and for me to help them. And as always, I am reminded repeatedly that people are good.
Locked down, and unable to escape the leaks, my thoughts turned inward. I crept into some of the darkest crevices of my mind, shocked at some of the old relics I had found in distant memories.
When I was a teenager, I had the opportunity to see Ben Howard live for the first time, I remember trying to convince a friend to come with me because “You aren’t going to remember the time you saved £25.00, you’re going to remember the time you were front row at a Ben Howard concert!”. Needless to say, we had a great time. It’s something I’ve always been mindful of. And now, after losing my mum, memories have never been so valuable to me.