Echoes of my mum...

I remember the morning I lost my mum as though it were yesterday. I had sat and held her hand in the hospital all night and had watched her slip further and further away from me in a confused and pain-ridden state that was just heart breaking and so very distressing to watch. Eventually though, she became peaceful and I climbed onto the bed with her and lay next to her with my head on her chest, feeling peace and calm wash through both of us. It therefore seemed a perfectly natural progression when her heart started gradually beating slower and slower to the point where the final beat, when it came, was neither a shock nor distressing. I just closed my eyes a little tighter, snuggled in just a little closer and took a few of the deepest breaths that I think I have ever taken. That is where I stayed until I felt ready to stand up and face my new world. My altered world. A world in which something inside me had switched off. Just like that. I had climbed onto that bed the daughter of a mother. A daughter who could not even contemplate life without the constant love and guidance of the woman who had given me my life. A daughter terrified by the new reality that was clearly now just a matter of an hour or so ahead of me. I stood up a  completely different person. I'm not sure what had changed but I was different. I felt alone in a way that I had never felt before but strangely I didn't feel the overwhelming grief that I had feared for so very long. I do recall later that evening sitting in my lounge in a daze and then hearing somebody, somewhere in the distance starting to scream. It took me at least a minute to realise that it was me. I remember very vividly what had frightened me so much though..I suddenly became afraid that without my mum I would forget how to be a mother to my own young children. I had learnt everything I knew from her and I was terrified that without her input and guidance I just wouldn't know how to be a mum anymore. I eventually calmed down and went to bed, just totally exhausted. For the first time in months I didn't lie there thinking of my mum afraid and in pain and I knew that the phone wouldn't ring in the night with some terrible news. For the second time that day, peace swept through my body and I slept.

The years since have been ones of quiet acceptance for all that was lost that day. They have not been years filled by a crushing grief and despair but by what can best be described as numbness, interrupted by periods of calm sadness. There has been a perpetual feeling of something missing though. Something has been out of balance inside me and I haven't been able to put it into words. It is a feeling. Not a collection of words that can either be written or spoken. Then last night something happened that blew the mist clean out of my mind and the answer to the question of what I have missed so very much flooded into my heart and soul like a tidal wave. In my rush to answer a phone call, I tripped over a cable and ended up thumping my head into the wall of my lounge. It was a hard knock and I immediatley began to feel dizzy and nauseous. I was on the laptop talking to a dear friend, who is the mom of another of my good friends. As soon as I told her what had happened she took complete control and I could feel her fear and worry in every word she typed to me. She was tired but she kept me talking until we could work out what was happening with me and it was her who made me stay awake and made me agree to go to the hospital. She then said that she would stay up until she heard that I was ok, no matter how late it was. I have so many wonderful friends who would have done just the same thing for me, with no hesitation, but this was different. This was the worry and concern of a mother. Ok, so not my mother but a lady who has felt like a mum to me for a while now. I was in pain and frightened and for the first time since I lost my mum I felt the protective arms of a mother around me, worrying about me and making me know that everything would be alright if I just listened to her and did as she said. It was then that I realised what I have missed and so quietly and inwardly grieved for all of these years. My place in the hierarchy of care-giving had in an instant changed forever as I stood up from that bed and faced my new life. Suddenly I was still the mother figure giving care and love to my own children but the person who had given the same care and love to me had gone. No wonder we mothers feel so empty and alone when we lose our own mothers...we carry on nurturing and protecting our children, trying to also plug the gaping hole left in their lives by the loss of their beloved grandma, at the same time that our own source of unconditional love and our own support system is pulled from under our feet. This evening, I have felt able to open up and talk about my mum and losing her for almost the first time since I lost her. Tonight I allowed tears to flow freely for the first time too and, although my adopted momma is half a world away, she listened to me and wiped away each and every tear as it fell. After all, isn't that what mums do?

For my mum...I read this at her funeral and think of her whenever I hear it...