Dear Mum

Even though you hurt me at times, I also remember all the ways you loved me. I remember at one of my lowest times the little book you gave me entitled You’ve Got What It Takes, I was foundering in my addiction then and you felt my pain and were trying to encourage me, but I had a lot of wounds I had not yet addressed.

I remember that you told me once of all your children you were most proud of me but that you also gave me all of your insecurity while your other children got more successful parts of you. I felt your pain so much and I still remember all of your stories, I loved our outings to have a cup of tea, but I was also aware at times there were entire levels on which we could never connect. I remember how it broke your heart when I left Jonathan all alone and how you secretly hoped I would have the ability to embrace a new life away from you, but Mum I was so worried that year you fell and fractured your wrist and Judy was also undergoing a lot, at that stage overseas just felt too far away and so I came back to be some support but struggled with that decision too.

I loved our outings to the movies, I know how much you worried about me. Some of my happiest times were just us two together with me holding your hand, especially in the later years when you suffered so much pain over your botched knee replacement operation.

I hold close to my heart often precious things that you had close to you, your pink cashmere sweater, a birthday calendar, a pair of rose coral earrings, the little cushion which was one of the only things you took from Judith’s care home when we cleared it out over those two Thursdays in the weeks following her death embroidered with the words, Live, Laugh, Love.

I remember arriving at your apartment while hearing Frank Sinatra blaring out from your stereo and I remember your favourite movie starring Sidney Pointier, Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.

Mum I miss you, I accept you are gone, I often hear you speaking to me. I wonder at times if you are really watching over me, or if that is just wishful thinking, but one thing I know for sure I carry part of you forever deep inside of me, for I am the continuation of both your’s and my father’s journey and even though at times my life is lonely and living without you is difficult I am grateful to you both for the gift of life.