It is a year since my mum died. When I woke up today I didn’t even think of it. My partner reminded me and we talked about it, and the death the day before my mum died, of my dad. Just a day apart, as if she followed him to the Other Side.
It has been the most awful year. I miss them both terribly. They weren’t just my mum and dad, they were my best friends and it has taken me nearly the whole year to feel normal again.
I decided not to do anything in particular to mark the anniversary. I think of them most days in any case. They would not want the rest of my life to revolve around their death; the way that it has for a lot of this year.
Today I’ve been shopping and now I’m sitting in Costa Coffee looking at the Christmas tree in the square outside. It is pretty and even rather tasteful with its white lights, although it is a little early for it to my mind.
I try not to dwell on the things that made my mum unhappy, as she often was in latter years, but I do have some knowledge of it. I try to make my tribute to her living my life to the full and being as happy as I can.
I hope I can make my living as a freelance and avoid going back to an office job; I want to have ‘nice things’ and go to interesting places.
My mum was very depressed at times and I think it stopped her from enjoying almost everything. I don’t know how she felt or how come she couldn’t overcome those feelings, but when I go out and do things I enjoy, I think of her and wish she could be in on it.
She truly was a brilliant mum. She didn’t nag me about things that I did that she didn’t agree with; she always had something nice to say about how I looked (however I looked!); she was proud of me and she was never shied away from telling me that she loved me. She may be gone – and way too soon – but I won’t ever underestimate how lucky I am to have had a mum like her.
Dedicated to the memory of my mum, Margaret Atherton 1937-2008.