I think as a young person who has lost their mum, I am quite tired of being scared of everything.
Sometimes I am deeply grateful that Mum has been protected from the fear and uncertainty we are facing. But other times, I am terrified and all I want is a cuddle from my mum, telling me it will all be okay.
I don’t feel fear like I used to. I’ve learnt that the only thing that you can actually count on in this life is, in fact, change. I don’t try and run away from it anymore; running away takes up too much energy anyway. It’s easier to face it straight on, embrace it, and jump.
I drew upon all my knowledge of the winds, sky, temperature, soil, watering schedule, seasonal changes, and I could not think of what could be causing her sorrows.
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.
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.
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.
Resilience and roller-skating go hand in hand. You slip up and fall on your butt, with your hands slapping the concrete besides you. You look up, praying no one saw, and a little voice says in the back of your head “This is the important bit, go on, get back up.”
I couldn’t even recall the last time I fell over, let alone setting out on an activity with the intention of falling over.
We live in the present, the only gift we have, and think of what could happen next. What plethora of opportunities there are, who we may meet, what songs we may hear.