#missing mum

💜14 years is too long Mama💜 we miss you everyday, but could you fuck the rain off now for the rest of the day thanks 👌🏼

Love you | miss you | think of you all the damn time | wish you were here 💜

Christmas Prompts 23' Day 21 Missing Mum

AO3

She sighs as she takes the ornaments out. Each hold a memory. Those memories hit differently this year.

He comes up behind her, wrapping his arms around her.  She relaxes back against him. The tension in her shoulders relaxes.

“She would be so proud of you and the mum you are.” He softly says.

January 4th is the anniversary of my mother’s death. Four years, now.  A day doesn’t go by that I don’t think about her.

I wrote this poem in 2020. It’s the only poem I’ve written since high school.

I long for the day when a death announcement Is not immediately accompanied By the calculus of how much longer they lived than you.

How many more sunrises they saw Birthdays, Fridays, afternoon coffees with friends Episodes of Jeopardy.

Were they able to put more joy into those years than you would have? Could they find more joy, do more sudoku Be better at Jeopardy than you?

(No.)

When they watched Jeopardy, did they have someone To tell them "Alex Trebek was in an episode of the X-Files"? Did I ever think to tell you that? You probably knew.

I bet it came up on Jeopardy.

I long for the day when my grief doesn't overwrite The grief of others in my heart.

You said your death wasn't a tragedy. You said you had no regrets. Hurting for myself feels hard and small. But the world without you Feels hard and small. Your absence Is tragedy.

I long for the day when I can remember love Without sorrow.

She doesn’t have a grave. We scattered her ashes in Algonquin Park, several provinces away, a few days after what would have been her 66th birthday.

She left behind two older sisters, four younger sisters, and a younger brother. Two sisters are in care homes now. One sister has lost her only child. One sister is a grandmother twice over. All things she didn’t live to see, to celebrate or support or grieve.

I miss her. Sometimes when I think of her it’s just a fleeting awareness that she’s gone, that I can’t call her or see her or hug her, and sometimes it’s like a tidal wave, washing everything else away so all I feel is how much I wish she was here.

This is one of the hymns sung at her funeral. She made one of her oldest friends and coworkers write the music she wanted down so there wouldn’t be a mistake.

Hymn 82 in Voices United.

Everytime I visit I still feel like I'm going to see you open the door and ask me how my day was.

I still feel your presence in the walls that hold your pictures, and the kitchen that holds your food and your bedroom that still smells faintly like your perfume.

I wish I could hug you or just hold your hand one more time.

You are still my best friend and each day that goes by it's harder knowing I can't talk to you.

I'm still trying not to fall apart.

True love never ends.

There are days after you lose someone which are hard. You wake up, and before ever getting out of bed you know, for no particular reason, it’s going to be one of those lonely days.

And then there are special days like yesterday, July 23rd, Mum and Dad’s wedding anniversary. On that day sixty four years ago, a young man from Donegal married an equally young woman from Donegal, promising ’til death…