The Journey

Its been a good few months since I have written about Mum, but at the minute I'm missing her more than ever.
It started back in August. The day of my husbands birthday, I recieved a phone call to tell me that a friend of mine had died in the early hours of that morning of pancreatic cancer.
I didnt even know she was ill, she had kept it pretty much to herself.
When I spoke to her son, I felt hollow, you could have knocked me over with a feather.
All of a sudden, everything that I remembered about the time with Mum came flooding back. Then I started to think about 'this time last year' and everything that we went through and more significantly what she had wrote in my then boyfriends birthday card. Two words - Be happy.

Needless to say I think that although my husband had a good birthday, I fear it was over shadowed by my grief for my friend and my Mum.

On the run up to my Dads anniversary in September I decided to do my own permanent flower arrangement for the grave, and bought little statues and have made it look really nice. I dont actually go that often as I dont feel like I have to be there to remember her.
Its actually the first year I havn't been on my Dad's anniversary.

As the months are just flying by and Mums anniversary is approaching nearly 4 months away. I have started to think about and in fact I have made a start on self publishing the blog about our journey, in the hope to sell the little book and donate all the money to Macmillan. I think Im going to call it, 'The Journey'.
When I talk to Mum in my head, I know she would think that it would be a flop as she wouldn't see why people would want to read about her, but I know she would be suuportive anyway.

I just want some good to come out of all this. I don't think thats wrong.

I havn't read the blog since I wrote it but now I have started to edit it and re-write some sections I honestly cannot believe how we all coped at that time.

Yesterday, something happened that I hadn't anticipated.........at all.

I dropped my son off at nursery and I know one of the other mothers as I went to primary school with her. I havn't spoken to her in years, but she knew my Mum via her mum, if you get my drift.
We struck up a conversation as we walked back to our cars and all of a sudden she asked me a question........"How's your Mum doing?"

My God, I was stunned, stopped dead in my tracks and just said, "She died".

I dont know who felt worse, between the two of us.

She was so apologetic, but I was ok, talking about it and telling her what had happened, but when I got in my car, I sat there for a few minutes just thinking.

Last night I couldn't sleep.

I still havn't cried that much, just been a bit quieter than usual. Maybe reading and editing the blog ready for printing might do me some good in the long run.

I think its started

I think my grieving has finally started.
Can't believe it has taken so long. I seem to have been coping so well, and although I have for the past 6 months accepted Mums death. Its only this week that I have really started to feel what I can only describe as grief. Im not at an all time low, Im not crying, I'm still fully functioning.

What I feel starts at the very back of my throat and carries on down deep beyond the pit of my stomache, like some twisted anxiety contorting my muscles inside to keep my emotions from spilling out or overflowing.

A few nights ago I was tossing and turning and couldnt sleep. Over and over again I was thinking about Mum, in her last few days and last few hours.
How all the lines had been erased from her face, all the lines that had come from worry, and laughter.

I was trying desperatly to remember anything about that awful time that would make it real. When I think back, its like a dream........A haze.......
I dont know why it was important for me to remember but it was.

Leading up to the wedding that was nearly a month ago now, I got upset a few times.
My corset that I wore under my dress had a silver locket attached. I put a picture of my Mum and Dad in there so they would be with me on the day.

On 2nd June 2011, we interred my Mums ashes in our family grave. Just a private small gathering. It was nice, I did a reading at the graveside, struggling again through tears and having to pause to compose myself. We played a song that reminded us of Mum.

The day before the wedding, Myself, my son and Stuart were all sat on the sofa explaining to my son what would happen at the wedding and how important it was. I said "Everybody will be there" He started quizing me as to who was going to be there and I started rattling off names of fammily members. All of a sudden he looked at me and said "Is Granny going to be there?"
After a short pause, I answered "No, No she can't be there sweetheart"
Without even looking at me Stuart knew I was filling up, and wiped my tears that had already started overflowing from my eyes.

I dont really go to my brothers house that much now. I was there one evening a few months ago and it was a dark clear night. As I looked up the garden path and saw the gate open, I had a flashback to the night the undertakers took Mum away. That darkness in the winter at 4am, the streetlight outside, I was trying to guard my sister from looking. And yet, it was something now I wish I hadnt seen. Just a fleeting glimpse of one of the undertakers knees buckling with the dead weight in the black bag.

Today I have been to let the dog out whie he was at work.
I started to polish the front room and photographs. As I did, I started to feel this weird sensation, sadness gripping me.

I think me and my husband have a telepathy thing going on. Exactly at the moment he phoned me to see if I was ok.

Echoes of laughter that used to resonate from this house. My Dad sat in the corner doing his bingo from the Sun newspaper. Mum ironing away, tea bubbling on the stove. Always hustling and bustling of the proverbial nest. A place of retreat and safety. Now stands pretty much empty except from the buzzing of the fish tank.

My brother has kept a note on his pinboard from my mum which says "Dont forget to look at the Gas & Electric" written in big letters. Seeing her writing and knowing she was nearly obsessed with making sure she had enough Gas & Eectric in the meters all year round.

All of a sudden it hit me. All the times in the past, when we feel like children, hurt, running back to our Mums. It cant happen anymore. Nowhere to run back to. We are all on our own now. Who am I going to turn to? Stuart I suppose and for as supportive, understanding and amazing as he is...........He's not my Mum, or my Dad.

But I am very glad that he got to know her for a year before she died, I wish he had known her for a little bit longer but I think thats just me being greedy and wanting the impossible.

While we were there my son went to the toilet but chose the upstairs one. When he called me up to help him I saw Mums bedroom door was shut. I was relieved.
I dont know why, but I didnt want to look in, why is that room bothering me now? I know its been redecorated and it hasnt bothered me before. But today................the door definately stayed closed.

Mothers Day

This morning I heard something that made me sad, its threw me a bit. The man that used to follow my other blog about Mum's illness has passed away, last week, losing his own life to lung cancer. I think we get that consumed with our own grief its easy to forget about those who are going through exactly the same thing, right now. Its jolted me a bit, and has brought a little lump to my throat. How stupid is that? That I can feel this way about someone I didn't know, yet I can't seem to grieve properly for mum. Mothers day was Sunday. I didn't go to the cemetry, Mums name is on the headstone now alongside my dad's name, but she won't be interred until June, so I didn't see the point in going. I havn't had much of an appetite this past week or so, and only sleeping for a couple of hours at a time. Sometimes when I try and sleep, I just lie there awake, thinking, anything, everything whirring around in my head. Then of course I wake up with headaches and tired. I know really I should go to doctors but I really can't be bothered. There have been some days I don't get dressed until late afternoon, and just want to stay in all the time. It such a chore to even go to the supermarket. Other days I'm just bursting with energy and think "Right, lets do this" and can't stop doing things. At church on Sunday it we also had to submit our works for the annual arts and crafts exhibition. I seem to have had a bit of a creative block recently but last week sat down with the computer and forced myself to write something. Where are you now? Would I wish you back? Of course, in an instant. Each day that passes the memories fade distant. No longer will we be able to share the loving words that show we care. I know that life, it carries on, but it’s not the same now that you’re gone. Infectious smiles and cheeky quips, lipstick smeared upon your lips. A mother’s love never fades away, It will stay with me ‘til my dying day. I am thankful that I was there at your end, the last few precious moments to spend. I held your hand and kissed your head, ‘Is that it?’ I said, ‘Is she really dead?’ Months of treatment and still no cure Would we do it again if we’d known before? It bought us time but all in vein, I couldn’t wish that upon you again. It was hard to sit and watch you go to the place people fear because we don’t know If he gave you back for just one day, would it be enough? What would you say? Would you tell us don’t worry, that you are safe. Would you tell us that you’re in some heavenly place? Would you tell us that you watch and listen, and dry our cheeks from tears that glisten? Would you tell us that you’re free from pain, and would not want to suffer all over again? If I had any answers in my head or my heart The belief stays the same, we’re not really apart If I knew you were safe where you had to go Would I wish you back? Painfully, No.

Sad

I havn't written anything in a while as I have genuinly felt at peace.
But now we are at 8 weeks since Mum died, I have been feeling so sad.

So up and down, like a bloody yo-yo.

One minute Im so happy with my life, the wedding draws closer, my family unit is stronger than ever. My son is so grown up in his little body, his 3rd birthday approaches.
Then all of a sudden I think 'I wish mum was here. I wish she could see us all so happy'
I still havnt cried properly, just a few leakages here and there, even now typing this, just a little one welled up and escaped.

It has been just over a year since her first bronchoscopy and then that leaves me thinking, 'God, was that realy a year ago?' All the tests and running to the hospital.
It just all seems like a blur. It seemed to go so fast, from the diagnosis, the chemo, the slowing down, where has the time gone?

I see things, like the cafe we used to go to on a Saturday morning, I pass there nearly every day, I havn't been in for a while.

Weekends arn't really the same, after church on a Sunday I used to pick mum up and we used to go to parks or something. I know towards the end all that changed. I think it was November the last time she came to my house.

Stuart says he misses my mum too.

Maybe this is the onset on my grief. God knows I have kept it so much together, so rational, but sometimes I can hear echoes of her voice, imagining what she would say if she were here. Commenting on how clever my son is, how nice Stuart is, how nice the new bedding I have bought is.
I see her face from time to time when I close my eyes, the way she looked in her coffin and at the time of her passing.

Sunday, I kept getting a smelling her breath. Just every now and again.

The one thing I havn't done, I dont think any of us have, is watch the home videos. I think right now I'm scared. I think it might just upset me too much.

My crazy neighbour has just been over asking about how my sister is coping, no-one asks me, because I 'appear' to be ok.

Right now I don't think I am. My son has just gone to get me some tissues cause, 'mummy? you cwying?'

But Why?

My son is going though the 'But why?' stage.
I really wasnt expecting it so soon, and last night asked the question I had been dreading.

Today is my brothers birthday and when I was putting my son to bed last night, I said we would go and see him and the doggy today. My son replied in a questioning tone 'and Granny?'

I just said 'No, you cant see Granny'
'But Why?'

I didn't answer, he's not going to understand so I just swept it under the carpet and carried on telling him the plans for today.

When I came out his room I went in the bathroom and cried. The realisation that the only way I will get to hear mums voice again are on videos and her face is now just a series of photographs.

The night I tried to sleep at the bottom of mums bed, just over 5 weeks ago, I couldnt sleep because there were song lyrics running through my head. Just the chorus of a song but now I listen to it again in its entirity the verses are very relevant too.
Heres the link as to what was running through my head.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WktvWxmEl04

Cogs

I cant believe its been 2 weeks today since the funeral. Feels a lot longer than that. Only 3 weeks since she died? Can't be. Why does it feel like ages ago?

I suppose when I think about the question I actually know the answer. I have been keeping busy, every minute of every day filled, I suppose everything is a welcome distraction, from thinking about it, even when it appears I'm doing nothing my head is still going, planning things.

There have been a couple of things that have happened this week where I have thought, 'I must tell Mum that when I see her'. Then remember, and a quick sinking feeling that I can't.

The other day when driving I saw a woman that looked like Mum from a distance and I still looked to see if it was her, funny for months we got used to seeing her with no hair and yet the woman I saw had a full head like how mums used to be.

When I have been going to sleep at night I think about things, think about what people have said, and people say the funniest of things don't they? I know they mean well and the words are kind, but one card I had stated that Mum was in a better place. A better place? Better than being here with her family? Its not like she's gone to the Seychelles.

I think this is where people start questioning their beliefs, round about now. Maybe Im not shedding tears and breaking down all over the place because I questioned my beliefs a while ago.
I think we are like a lightbulb, the bulb blows and the fillament gets broken and the bulb doesn't work anymore, but there is still electric supplied to it.

My other theory about me not being a quivering mess is this one. When me and Mum had deep discussions she said that each family member brought different qualities almost like making up one whole being. Like cogs. We do function individually but together are one working piece.

The things that I have done and put into place I dont think the others would have done with the same finesse, and before anyone thinks that sound a bit conceited, by the same token, I couldnt live in that house now like my brother does, or I couldnt have looked after her like my sister did.
We all have things to be proud of and should be grateful for.

On Monday someone asked me how the funeral went, then seemed suprised when I said it was really good. Maybe a bad choice of words on my part. I then had to explain that it was everything that Mum wanted and anticipated it to be.
It did make our life a lot easier talking about it beforehand and knowing what music and readings etc. You know there wasn't one word spoken about Mum that day that didn't fit, I'm certain if mum was around to witness it she would have said (and I can hear her say it in my head now) 'That was f***ing fantastic'. I'd like to think that somehow, from somewhere (maybe the Seychelles) she did witness it.
Yes Mum swore, she said to me once that when she died she didnt want us to paint a false picture of her, putting her on a pedastal and making her out to be a saint.

The thing I have been dreading the most hasn't happened yet. My son, touch wood, hasn't asked where Granny is.
Though in the car he was talking to himself and saying' Granny, where are you?' was a bit weird.

Last night I dreamt about mum and she looked exactly how we all remember her, before she was ill. I can;t remember the ins and outs of the dream but I know that she was ok.

Aftermath

How do we let a mother go?
How do we say "I'm ready now to go on without you"?
How can we ever have a clue of what that really means?
And of a sudden the moment is upon us, and there's no turning back.
And then we know what grief is,... and guilt and love and things
undone.

Try to prepare and we will fail in some way, be it subtle or looming....But
there is peace too. peace and acceptance and overwhelming love that we maybe
weren't aware of.
waves and waves of conflicting emotion,And laughter too, and memories we
hadn't bothered lately to recall come flooding back in shared company..
and it's all about you mum...

And there's gratitude.. so much of that, that we had you, such a wonderful
mother...
Bright and shining, nobody's fool, independent, but humble too;
Smart, and kind, and fun. Adventurous..
A part of you has passed away, but much is carried everyday within us, and
will as long as we are here.

This may be a final tribute, A day to celebrate your life and say
goodbyes;But it's not final. Every day I'll celebrate in some way, just by the
virtue of how you shaped my life, The absolute and incredible fortune that I
knew you.As a mother, a friend and a woman

These are the words I stood up and read at approximately 11.20am on Wednesday 2nd February 2011 at my Mum's funeral.

"Don't look at anybody, oh God I cant look at anybody, If I look at anyone of them I wont be able to continue' were the thoughts that were going through my head at the moment just before I started and during the times my voice was shaky and I was struggling to fight back the tears.

For those of you who dont know, on 24th January 2011 my mum died of lung cancer.

Some people have asked me 'What happen with the blog now?'

The thing about the lung cancer blog was that is exactly what is was about. The last entry was just that. An end to mums journey of 'battling with Lung cancer'

This blog however, is about my grief. And lack of it too.

It is unfair to talk about the events and last few minutes of mums life, but all you need to know is that she did 'hang on' until all three of her children were at her side before her final breath.

You know there is only one time in the past 3 weeks that I honestly broke down uncontrollably sobbing.

I have been feeling a bit guilty about not being a mess, and seemingly being able to carry on as if nothing has happened.

The one thing I have realised is that there is no right and wrong way to grieve.

Everybody does it differently.

I have a young son and I think he has kept me going a lot over the past few weeks. Trying to maintain some sense of noramility and fun.

I have thought that maybe I accepted the situation before mum died but I dont think its the case. Maybe what I once thought was acceptance was in fact denial.

To me right now.........When I think of mum I think of her sat at home, in her armchair, watching television. If I were to walk down the path and look in through the window I would see the back of her armchair with her hair above the back.

I know however, that is not the case.

I have been so calm and collected about the whole event but I suppose having lots to do with arrangements, sorting through mums belongings I had't had time myself.

What led to my uncontrollable sobbing the other night was something so simple.

I was 'ebaying' some of mums clothes and I came across a hooded top that I remember mum wearing. When I looked at the label there was a silver butterfly embroidered and the words 'Look after me' embroidered underneath.

My boyfriend came and cuddled me and told me I had done enough for that night.

The last 24 hours I have been giving serious thought to writing this blog. I thought my grief might be a personal journey and something I had to deal with myself, but I think that maybe writing about my feelings might help me.