But that’s grief, isn’t it? It comes when you least expect it. When you find a video you sent to your mum, of you in a pyjama set she bought you, tucked in a bed she kissed you goodnight in, cuddling the cat you both loved so much together.
I think the thing with grief is that I always want to know the ‘why’ or the ‘what’; Why did I break down after a perfectly nice weekend? What was the trigger? On Sunday night, I went to bed and woke up 23 again, in 2018. I woke up with all of the fresh pain and the memories of my mum passing away. I felt frantic and only wanted to speak to the people who were around me then.
The vet nurse called Daisy a naughty torty, and I quite liked that.