30 Words: Aeternum vale

I sat down, pen and paper ready, to write Mum a eulogy, six months after she passed away,

but the ink decided to frolic with my tears in lunatic swirls...

Sweet Mother of mine x

:(

Always on my mind

Saturday, 11:30.  As I drive up to Monte the sun does it's utmost to glare me off the road. I fumble for my sunglasses and momentarily forget I should be driving on the right side of the road. There are no oncoming vehicles, but a group of men outside the pub notice my error and look at me, open-mouthed, in disbelief at my incompetence. I smile and continue, with retinas adjusted and comfortable behind the protective polaroid lenses.

I love this particular drive, but now, it also fills me with anguish. It is the route I used to take when visitng my mum.

 It's been 5 months since her untimely death - our unwanted separation that is harder to accept than any other separation, before or since.

I'm presently decorating and tiling parts of my brother and his wife's home. The home attached to my mum and dad's home.

I walk across the garden and look through the window, knowing there is no one in.  I open her front door to get some sugar and instantly feel overwhelmed with sadness and a sence of her presence.

Her belongings are still on display: her framed photographs decorate the walls, serving as a constant reminder of the loss I feel  and portraying part of the life's history of a very special and irreplaceable woman.

One of her life's legacies - me - standing still at the entrance, teary-eyed and empty despite feeling her presence; weighed down with the unimaginable pain of her loss.

I miss her so much.

If she were still here, she'd have been busy keeping me watered and fed as she always did. She would have been telling me about all the extended family's goings-on, the dynamics of our large DNA-bound group.

She would have complained about the politicians too,the ones she concluded used public office as a mealt-ticket. And about the innapropriate content of our day-time television. She would probably complain about dad's refusal to take her out more often than once a week.

She would have made laugh. She would have also gently reprimanded me for smoking - for drinking - for all the late nights.

I loved being reprimanded by her. After all, I knew she cared as deeply for me as I did for her. It wasn't criticism, never, just plain motherly advice that more often than not went into one ear and out of the other. But the mere fact of her words bouncing around my head, always seemed to induce a sense of well-being and gratification that nobody else's words can ever match.

I like being here at the house, despite, or maybe even because of, the constant and painful reminders of a time gone by.

Gone but never forgotten. 

:(

Goodbye Mum, I'll never stop loving you

Yesterday, 11th October 2011 at 09:30, my Mum passed away in hospital, after suffering  heart seizure.

Mum had been in hospital for 3 weeks, most of that time in Intensive Care.

Mum was moved last Friday from one hospital to another and that filled us with hope. From Intensive Care to a convalescing hospital, it was looking promising.

Mum and Dad's wedding : The beginning of the story...

I saw her Sunday at 13:00 and she was smiling but subdued. I asked her when she was coming home as I miss our Sunday lunches together and she smiled but didn't say anything.

Mum was more concerned with my injured knuckle, sustained on my way home the day before. I tripped and smashed my right little finger on a wall. It is bandaged and bruised and mum was annoyed I hadn't gone to A&E. I assured her I would go to hospital if it got worse.

I hour later I kissed her cheek and left her there with my Dad for company. I told her I'd visit again Tuesday after 17:00 with Madeleine. Mum smiled and we hugged and that's the last time I saw her.

I can't accept I won't see her again. My Mum has gone and I don't know what to do to make the pain go away. I'm going to miss her so much. I often mentioned one of the advantages of returning to Madeira was being here for my parents.

I feel so sorry for Mum too. Mum did not want to die and made that perfectly clear; to me at least, though she had often confided in others how she was sick and tired of being ill and in discomfort and wished for a speedy end. Mum never said such thing to me; Mum never would say anything to hurt me. Mum shielded me from the truth now, as she often did throughout my life when it was necessary and more comforting for me not to know the truth. Because Mum cared for me in a way no one else could.

Mum constantly helped me financially, especially around two years ago, after I signed away all my worldly goods to my ex wife. Mum would slip notes into my pockets everytime I visited her and she would also come with Dad to pick me up once a week and take me to the supermarket to pay for my groceries.

Mum did all that because she loved me unconditionally.

I love my Mum unconditionally too and always will.

I so wish there was something I could have done. I so wish I could have saved her or even been there at the end to hold her close.

My darling Mum recently

There were seven of us and now only three remain.

I have mentioned lately that I'm living in paradise and feel the happiest I've felt in years.  The irony of it all.

R.I.P Mum. I love you and never will forget you. Thank you for being my Mum, my creator, my carer and my source of comfort for so many years.

<3