When my Mum passed away, I willed my life to stay exactly how she left it – perfectly untouched like the crisp layer of newly fallen snow, blanketing my life. I daren’t take a step forward in fear of altering what she had left. I awkwardly lived around her belongings, preserving her life in our home.
I’m a hoarder of moments, desperate to find gold in paper,
Something that I had missed before, like an echoing smile.
I walk in my loving, sweet Danse Macabre,
My fruitless attempt to make “treasure” worthwhile.
Chiquitita, you and I cry,
But the sun is still in the sky and shining above you.
Is a nice one.
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.
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.
For our 5th Something To Brighten Your Sunday, I hope you enjoy these photos of some very regal birds!
I’m running towards a finish line I simply can’t see, crowds and crowds of people clapping for their children, and I know my mum is still cheering for me.
We hope that you have enjoyed reading The Grief Reality in April. It is a joy to have somewhere to talk so openly about grief, mental health and general ramblings.
All the plays and displays of light I see I see in a day.