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.