Monday, June 14, 2010

Time's tide will smother you

I'm still at sixes and sevens, which is entirely to be expected. I find associations in the smallest things. Now and then it hits me - both my parents are gone. It's an odd feeling. Some days I'm fine, others start badly and get steadily worse. My sleep is frequently interrupted with vivid dreams of my Mum. I find that the days I dream about her, I'm worse.

On Friday I went up to town for the day and got the 521 through the city to London Bridge. This was harder than I thought it would be, because being in Central London makes me think of both of my parents, as well as the many years I spent living and working there. In fact, as I was travelling along High Holborn, I realised that it was 15 years to the day that I had first moved up to London. This made me feel even sadder.

I'm continuing with my part time working pattern until the end of June. The amount of paperwork relating to a death is staggering, so this is just as well. I'm getting things done, which is a small consolation. We've booked a holiday - I plan to do nothing bar sit about, read and sleep. No sightseeing, no activities, nothing. Relaxation doesn't come easily to me but I am determined to force myself to take things easy.

The Dog, thankfully, remains a source of joy to us all and has settled into her new life and home. She has two cats to love (sadly for her, this isn't reciprocated). She sees the children a lot, and she has adopted two small angora rabbits as her own. My initial thought was - oh god, she wants to snap their necks - but she thinks they are puppies. She's never seen a rabbit before, and she's never had puppies of her own, so she's decided that they are baby dogs. Fair enough. She's also slimmed down: no more Rich Tea biscuits for breakfast. [There's my tip to all you dieters.]

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

For every happy hello, there will be goodbye

It's hard to know where to start, if I'm honest. The last few weeks have been a blur, and I have to admit that I'm finding it difficult to express exactly what it is that I'm feeling at the moment. I'm also keen not to have a nervous breakdown over the internet. Not on a blog, anyway. That's what Facebook appears to be for.

Three weeks ago today we were hurtling down a motorway to be by her bedside. Two weeks ago today I was wandering her house, cleaning; something that couldn't be done properly all the while she was ill. A week ago today we were returning from Devon on the day after her funeral.

Mum was terribly ill, and looking back at what I've written on this blog, I had a very clear idea of what her illness meant and the seriousness of the outcome. However, it still came as a shock to me that she couldn't cling onto life any longer. She had fought so hard all her life, I think I just assumed she'd keep fighting. I spent some time talking to her in the hospital and telling her not to linger for our benefit, yet still her death came as a surprise.

The thing that hits me more than anything else is that there is a void where she used to be. She used to dominate proceedings, in every sense of the phrase. I find myself thinking "I must ring her to tell her about..." or "when we next visit, we'll do...". It's so hard. I just feel...well, lost, I suppose is how I feel.

So, I keep busy. Ringing up insurance companies, writing thank you letters, calling her old friends to break the news. Thing is, there's going to come a time when there are no more calls to make or letters to write, and I'll need to face up to the fact that she's gone.