As Time Goes Bye

Unbelievably, it’s been four years since Mum passed away.

July first had started out happily, and then it came crashing down around me, when Hubby had the unfortunate job of breaking the devastating news to me.

Yet, it still seems like it happened just a few weeks ago.

I always thought the notion of time healing or easing the loss would be a thing to cling to. The brutal truth is, it hasn’t, not really.

A lot of that has to do with the little miss. As her 4th birthday approaches, it’s a sad reminder that I no longer have neither mum or dad around to tell them all about the lots of little things which are sweet, frustrating or funny, that she has done. They would have loved to have been told about every single moment, as any grandparent would.

Possibly the hardest part of mum not being here, is not being able to talk to her about when I was young. Granted, she wouldn’t have remembered everything, but, it would have been nice to pass on stories and memories of me, to my daughter, when I was her age.

I endeavor not be melancholy. So, each year, I listen to the music mum enjoyed, and try to do something to honor her memory. I miss her advice, her hugs, even her silly jokes. I just miss her.

“There is no death, daughter. People die only when we forget them,' my mother explained shortly before she left me. 'If you can remember me, I will be with you always.” Isabel Allende

They've Gone

Let laughter be the light in all this

dark and sadness.

The pilot announced that we had landed at Boston Logan and I cried.

Cried because it was really real that Dad was no longer here. And he was always there. Each time I left for the US he would give me money for the taxi (no arguments) and he'd send me off with a smile and a 'call me when you get there'. I got 'there' and he wasn't there for me to call.

How do I feel now that both Mum and Dad have knocked on the pearly gates? Lost, empty, grateful. When I say 'grateful' I simply mean all that they did for me; providing a warm, loving home, an education, teaching right from wrong.

I know many will say with kindness and good intention that I have a wonderful husband, a beautiful daughter. And I'm not unappreciative of what is mine - a roof over my head and food on the table - it's a lot more than some have; but the fact of the matter is, they/it won't replace my parents. There is a void in my heart that no-one can fill.

I know many have lost their parents, I'm not the first and I won't be the last. However, I feel a particular wrench because it's only been two years since Mum passed away. I was more accepting of Dad's passing, especially when the consultant said "we'll see how he is over the next 48hours." I acknowledged the statement as he wasn't expecting Dad to last much longer.

As I emptied the house of their clothes, mementos, paperwork (oh Lord the paperwork), the home that I grew up in, quickly became a house. I shed tears as I locked the front door as I remembered when I left the UK back in November, I looked at Dad from the car. He sat in his chair and was smiling. And the thought fleeted through my mind, it was the last time I would be seeing him.

So there it is, they've gone. My mind is beginning to come around to the idea of getting on with living. I have to for the sake of their grandchild otherwise they'd come back and have words with me!

I miss them.

A Year Later...

I still can't believe that Mum got her wings a year ago.

When I started to make notes about my post I realized that it was all a bit sad, bordering on depressing. Don't get me wrong, I am incredibly sad about Mum not being here. I still long to hear her voice, to get the call where she has to share her latest joke.

And that's when I reminded myself that Mum loved to laugh and have a laugh. In the last few years her life was really quite unhappy with being so ill and jokes, yes even the naff ones, made her giggle and gave some light relief.

So I figured, I could lament about the feeling of loss and how I don't really look at the picture of Mum that is on my coffee table too much because it causes my heart to ache. No, instead I figured July 1st is not just a day of remembrance but a chance to celebrate the life of a woman who:

• made me laugh
• made me appreciate the written word
• told me to use my common-sense
• wound me up
• tried my patience
• made me cry 
• I enjoyed hugging
• strive and achieve to become a published author
• taught me the Beatitudes
• I envied and admired her natural artistic abilities
• who ultimately pushed me to be a better person and achieve more than she did

So as much as her absence has left a hole in my heart, I'll always be grateful for what she taught me...as well as not being able to teach the Little Miss bad habits and then hand her back to me (something she promised to do with her grandchildren)!

Thanks Mum xx

Mum

As I enter the world of motherhood, I find myself missing Mum more and more - she was the one that I would have called and asked 'am I doing this right?' Having said that, when I had to asked Mum a question (some months ago) she responded, 'how old are you Shalini? Well, that's the last time I looked after a baby, I can't remember...' but that didn't stop her from passing on a few words of wisdom.

It's been a couple of months since I heard the phrase, 'Mum has died'. Three words I, perhaps naively, didn't think I'd hear for a very long time.

A calmness surrounded me when I heard. Yes tears were shed, but essentially I was calm. Did I think I would be hysterical, beat my chest wailing if and when I would hear the terrible news? Perhaps, but I'm rarely that demonstrative and the truth be known, I was more at peace with Mum going than I thought I would be. On that day, having been told that Mum had gone into hospital, I didn't panic or start to fret like I normally do but I simply said to myself, 'she's in your hands now God'.

So many ordinary things make me think of her and it's amazing that despite the tantrums I threw and the arguments we had, all I remember are the times we had a laugh, when we would just share a hug or work quietly together in the kitchen preparing dinner. As I think about how I will be as a mother, I hope to pass on a few things that Mum taught me such as how to treat other people, having faith, a good sense of humor - as well as my own little nuances...

Some people call their mum/dad their best friend, but I never saw mine like that, she was just Mum. And it would be easy to be upset at not being her best friend, but I'm proud to be just her daughter. She knew everything about me even when I said nothing. She knew what made me tick, how I would react to a situation. As I got older, got married, our conversations changed and she talked to me as a grown woman - but still as her youngest.

A stylish, hard working woman who could make the most delicate sugar-paste flower to wallpapering an entire room single-handed, what ever she turned her hand to, it worked. She had a great sense of fashion, loved her 'bling' (her middle name should have been Swarovski) and wherever Mum went, she made a friend and had a smile for a stranger.

So as I tend to my daughters needs, I'm both excited and sad. There have been many little things I know I would have called Mum to tell her about for me to hear how she would have handled it or her experiences with raising me, my brother and sister; it's very bittersweet.

But as Hubby said, our daughter wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Mum because she had me - so there's a little bit of her in our little girl. It's a comforting thought and I can't wait to tell our little one about her remarkable Grandma.