Mum would love these rainbows.
Living in a new reality without our person confronts all kinds of feelings about who we are now, without them.
For a person who epitomized life itself, it was a setback to be ravaged by cancer. A woman who was on her toes for most part of her day, it was upsetting to be confined to a bed. And, a lady who liked to dress up, losing her crowning glory to treatment was a massive blow.
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.
I remember a page where I just scribbled “WHY”. One word which took up the whole page. I scratched it in so much the letters were thick and black but each time I drove my pen into the paper I felt a release.
Motivation feels like a flying bird: in your eye line for a second, and then gone forever more.
After all, I was widowed now! Wasn’t I supposed to be sad all the time?
We are one third of the way through 2021. Look at how far you have come, and smile. We are so proud of you.
Now is the season, the time of the year towards the end of January and the beginning of February, that I get catapulted from a time of bith celebrations, into the furnace of grief – to go back through the smithing process again, for refinement.
Thank you for being here. Thank you to the silent readers who don’t comment. Thank you to the readers who do comment. Thank you to the people who come from our social media. Thank you to the people who stumble across our blog and never come back. Thank you to the people who keep coming back. Thank you for being here with me as I grow and navigate this world without my Mum.