19 March 2012

Bittersweet moments

Three years ago today we were told that it was cancer.

Three years ago, we were told it was terminal and that there was very little they could do.

What a cruel twist of fate that this day, three years later is Mothers Day.  A day that is already so incredibly difficult made even harder.  Life changed in so many ways when we received this news.  And it changed in ways I couldn't comprehend or even prepare for.

Nothing can prepare you for how it will feel being with someone when they take their last breath.  I had been by the side of one of my grandmothers many years ago when she did just that, but with my Mum, it was oh so different.  While I will be forever thankful that I was there when she left this world, I know that I will be forever haunted with that memory, that I am forever haunted with her words of "I cannot do this anymore" when she asked to be sedated just a few hours before she finally went on to die. 

Her final goodbyes ring out in my ears.  I clutch onto the letter that she wrote to me before she passed, the only thing I physically have left to hold onto. 

I hate that she suffered so much.  I hate that she could have had so many more years, to share with us.  I hate how we have been cheated out of this time, out of having such a wonderfully strong and beautiful woman be there as we all move forward, my son has lost his most wonderful nan, and I have lost the person who was more than just my mum.  Someone who was so beyond my best friend.

Today is incredibly bittersweet, I am blessed to be a Mum.  The most wonderful thing in the world, and for that I am thankful each and every day.  But today, on Mothers  Day, I feel the loss of my Mum intensely.  I know that no matter how many years pass by, that I will be forever feeling that loss.

Life, family. Nothing is the same without her here.

I wish I had some sort of belief which would enable me to picture her in a better place, where I could envisage her free from the pain that she suffered.  I wish I could have some sort of belief that we would at some time, in some way, be reunited.

All I have are the pictures, but more so the memories and it is those memories that keep her forever close. 

My heart is her home. She will live there forever.

1 comment:

  1. Dear Kat,

    I am sorry for your loss, it does get easier; but, that doesn't always help today. Best wishes.