One minute she was here, the next she was gone.
It’s been over 4 years since Mummy left this Earth for Heaven and not a day goes by where I don’t miss her that little bit more than I did the day before.
I knew Mummy was going to leave us, I just never at the time, anticipated it was going to be as soon as it was. That’s the thing with bastarding Cancer, it’s poison in every sense of the word. It poisoned Mummy and it left a vile and bitter taste in the mouths of us left behind to miss her and pick up the pieces afterwards, much like how I would imagine poison to taste.
Mummy was the nicest person I ever met. I’m not just saying that because she’s not here, the way people often reminisce nostalgically, I’m saying it because it’s true. Mummy always put my Father and me and brothers and sisters before her. Always the first one leaping up to make visitors a cup of tea or to ram a ham sandwich down their throat before they’d even taken their shoes off in the hallway – she was definitely the Mrs Doyle of the family! You see Mummy, was an angel that graced a large number of us with her presence and made such an impact that even kids who I went to school with over 30 years ago, still speak fondly and warmly of her.
The love my Mother shared with me and my brothers and sisters is like no other and every day with my own little boy, I strive to be the Mother that I was so wonderfully given all those years ago. Sometimes, I struggle to believe she’s not here – often when I want to share something Harry’s done and then I’m reminded she’s in Heaven and not at the end of the phone.
They say that it gets easier with time. Not strictly untrue, it doesn’t get any easier; you just learn to live with them not being here. Mummy was like no other person I’ve ever met. She had no temper, she didn’t dislike anyone and I don’t know of one person who ever had a bad word to say about her. Mummy would take the weight of the world’s heartache on her shoulders; like a sponge soaking it all in and not readily letting it go.
One of the things I miss most about Mummy is her infectious laugh; one minute it was here and the next it was gone. Mummy was always laughing – she always used to say it was better to laugh than cry and she was so right (as she often was about most things). And listening, Mummy was an excellent listener.
Mummy would sit and listen whilst I often ranted about the trials and tribulations of the world. Never butting in, she’d offer her wise words calmly and always remind me that no matter what’s said to you, to take it with a pinch of salt, never judging.
For 29 years, I was blessed with the best of Mothers that one could be graced with. Yes I’m sad and very often furious with the powers that be that Mummy was stolen from us at such a young age, but at the same time, I feel blessed to have had her for those 29 years. Some of you will live a lifetime with your Mother and never experience the love I felt, so i’m grateful for the time we had.
No I will not see her grow old, no she’ll never meet the loves of my life (my future husband and my darling son), and nor will I ever hear her infectious laugh ever again, but I know that when my time does come, Mummy will be at those pearly gates, gently urging St Peter that she’s been waiting all too long to see me again. And then I’ll hear that infectious laugh once again…