When I wake up, my heart doesn’t split into a thousand pieces. My head doesn’t pound with questions asking me why us, or how are we here. When I reach for a mug for my coffee, my hands don’t shake when I see Mum’s mug.
Our true love ran deep
Cascading over hidden rocks
Spaces like these bring so much peace to my heart.
Today is one of the days where I kneel humbled by my grief. I am not bowled over by it, I am not stressed about it, I am simply shaken by it.
My locket became an important talisman for me to wear when grief crushed the life out of me. The subtle gold heart became an important symbol that my mum existed, and that once I was happy. My locket became my mum’s way to witness my life as I lived it.
When we put the photos in, and I put it on, I didn’t feel happy. I felt safe. I felt like, now I have my locket, Mummy will always be in the right ventricle of my heart, and I could always show people a picture of my Mum. I felt more relaxed, like I didn’t have to try so hard to keep remembering. But most of all, I felt close to Mummy.
I don’t wonder why they behaved this way, but I ask myself why I responded. I put this individual’s behaviour down to them having a bad day and I forgive them. Yet I can’t forget the fact that they saw me at my most vulnerable, and strangers must have seen me as weak.
Whether we mean it or not, productivity is charged with a complex definition; what you produce has to be something we can measure against society’s standards, and it has to be useful.
All the plays and displays of light I see I see in a day.
Promote growth wherever you can.