A year ago today, we went to my Mum & Dad's house for dinner. I made lasagne, Dad bought 'posh' ice cream, set the table with candles and Mum managed to get out of bed for half an hour to eat with us. She chatted to the children as best she could, ate like a bird and wouldn't stop apologising for not being able to sit up for longer. The next evening she was admitted to hospital with severe exhaustion and an infection. She never really recovered properly, the cancer had weakened her bone marrow so much she could no longer benefit from blood transfusions.
She never made it back home, to the small house she and Dad had bought recently, and had been working on to make their own. It was supposed to be the house they spent the latter part of their life in, closer to me, my brother & their grandchildren, so they could spend more time with us. Mum & I had looked forward to having shopping trips together, lunch out, popping in to theirs for a cuppa, having them to ours for Sunday roasts.
She died less than a month later in a nursing home. I find I'm thinking about her all the time, every time I drive on the road which leads to the hospital, to the the nursing home, every time DH speaks to his mum on the phone, when I use the water jug from the house I grew up in, when I wear the ring she gave me. And every time I see my face in the mirror - I see her.
I miss you so much mum. I'm doing my best to support and look after dad, and he is doing OK, so please don't worry about us. You'd hate me for saying this, but you were such a worrier . I try to be the kind, thoughtful, loving mum that you were, every day. You told me I was 15% better than I thought I was, and I tell DD that a lot. You taught me so much.
I miss you, dammit.
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6 replies
PingPongBat · 21/01/2016 08:50
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