On Facetime to both my boyfriend and my sister, Evee said to me “That’ll do pig, that’ll do” quoting the iconic final line from Babe, and I laughed through my tears. She was right, that’ll do. It’s over now, I can rest.
Usually grief is a concept pushed to the edges of Christmas along with dried out Christmas tree needles and discarded wrapping paper. I had heard of A Boy Named Christmas through flashes on screens in adverts. I thought “boy and mouse; what could go wrong?” Immediately, my heart sank as I discovered the children had lost their mother.
Why do we have this self-imposed idea that throughout our lives we are meant to maintain a perfect, crisp version of ourselves? Like untouched snow, or fresh school shoes that we don’t want to scratch.
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.
I am looking forward to the photography opportunities, the cold wind and then being cosy and warm indoors. 🤍
Before, roller skating meant the art of learning to love myself without having to aim for perfection, and now it is about freedom and healing. When I am skating, I can be whoever I need to be, feeling anything I need to feel.
Shrunken shoulders, bent in pain
Sadness and tears unrestrained
Bring forth whispers of your name
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.
For us, we have enjoyed the covid restrictions easing and being able to spend time with our friends and family. What about for you all?