Just before Mother’s day begins…

Tomorrow is mother’s day and usually I wouldn’t post anything on social media – this applies regardless of the occasion really. Just not my style! Of course this year is different however, because this year I am blogging. There will have been many posts undoubtedly with gift guides and special tributes. I wanted to contribute something different; something we don’t want to think about but is very fitting to what I have been thinking about.

A little part of me dreads these occasions. Not because of the gift purchasing stress – not because I don’t love my mum – not because I think it’s a corporate scam… (well).

Perhaps just over a year ago I realised whenever this occasions arises, I will have to watch my mum suffer with the fact she doesn’t have her own: my Nanny. Although it’s fitting to talk about this just before mother’s day, this is not the only day my Nanny is dearly missed – for my mum, it’s every birthday, every anniversary, my Nanny’s birthday, my Nanny’s death day, Christmas, New year and all that comes in between. It’s constant, but maybe a bit worse when everything reminds you of what you are missing.

My mum is strong, and beautiful, and puts herself down way too harshly when she can’t give 100% of herself to help friends and strangers alike. But I imagine she walks around on these days with a little black cloud hanging over her head. You wouldn’t know it if you met her – it has even taken me roughly ten years to feel a drop of rain. Of course I know one day I will be caught in the entirety of the storm. And then what am I supposed to do?

I wonder if this infinite sadness goes hand in hand with the feeling of being completely “grown up”. Sometimes I think my mum acts grown up to harden her external defences. Sometimes I think she acts like a child to forget how much closer to my Nanny she is becoming.

I am very scared about losing her too.

I suppose it would be enlightening of this blog, to mention my Nanny and Granddad (whom also passed away) are the reason I wanted to be an author. If you will, and I certainly believe, some worldly force destined me for the path I am pursuing. Even at the blissful age of ten, I remember the melancholy of knowing neither would see me published. Whether it is true or not, that their spirits live on, at least I know they would have been proud.

Despite this once secret dread of such occasions, I really do hope everyone has a happy mother’s day. Something to remember, is that the dead can’t stop the living. But their spirits can be carried through our lives. This is my favourite thing about story telling. Nothing is forgotten that needs to be remembered. Just one story which reminds me of my Nanny or my mum is a blessing to my very soul.

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