My Mum died this summer. She was very elderly, she had a progressive illness, her last couple of months were awful. She'd had a good life (from a bad start). Her death was peaceful and right.
We never had the mother/daughter relationship I craved, and I felt judged and small, and I lived in the shadow of her expectations.
But I loved her, and she loved me, and as I prepare for Christmas I am torn apart at the hole that has been left in my life. I am shaking at the thought of sitting down to lunch with an 'empty space' at the table.
This year there will be less eye-rolling at her comments, there will be less feeling of 'not being good enough', we will all be able to relax without the caring responsibilities we had last year.
There will be less conflict. But none of the sparkly lights of Christmas have excited me this year, none of the preparations have made me look forward to the 25th, and I feel empty and hollow.
Mum, I miss you xx