Traces

It’s hard, so hard…especially for him. Watching, as he walks away from our house to go to his (yours…) makes my heart ache. I always hope he’s left a lamp on, so it doesn’t feel quite so empty when he opens the door.

We all miss you.

You’d be proud though. We haven’t allowed ourselves to be dragged under. He’s even used the iron…yes, I know. I did offer by the way, but he insisted he could do it.

Did I say we all miss you?

Life is moving forward, and I know that is a good thing, but it feels so bad sometimes.

Spring is nearly here…I know that would make you happy. We saw the snowdrops in the park on Friday.

Your knitting is still hung on the cupboard door…

…there are traces of you everywhere.

Writing along with Amanda’s prompts, today I used Saturday’s word, which was ‘remnant’.

Twelve days

The death of someone close brings with it a new perspective. Losing someone so suddenly you cannot help but feel a little cheated, angry even, but I am certain all of this is part of the grieving process.

There have been the inevitable regrets, ‘I could have’, ‘I should have’, nothing heavy, just small things, but regrets all the same. This too, I believe is part of the process.

It has only been twelve days, but it feels like a lifetime has been lived in that short time, and in a way it has, in the memories and moments of my mum’s life that we have talked, cried and laughed about.

These past twelve days have been so hard, from the raw disbelief of the first few,  the necessity of days taken up with arrangements and days where waves of sadness wash over you with no regard for where you are or what you are doing.

It may seem strange to say this, but one good thing that has slowly risen to the surface, is the overwhelming feeling that every minute of every day is precious. Life, no matter how much we believe we have control, cannot be scripted. Life, happens regardless of what we do, it happens around us whether we are moving with it or in a tunnel of grief…this I now know.

I am aware that my life has changed forever, there will always be a piece of me missing, but I am determined to try to wake up every day and be the best person I can, because we never know when this journey will end.

I believe I owe my fortitude and positivity to my mum, she taught me the necessity of these attributes; so for this, among many other things, I am eternally grateful.

Writing along with Amanda’s beautiful February prompts. Yesterday’s prompt ‘scripted’ felt so right today.

Left unsaid

My heart was ripped from my chest

Those words distant yet deafening,

Hitting me in the stomach

Like a million punches.

~

Even sat down, my legs buckled beneath me,

This ugliness was inside me.

There was no escape;

No hiding place.

~

When I thought I might die

I wanted you to know,

That every minute of every day

I loved you.

~

That having you, changed everything.

I couldn’t leave,

Not now, I had so much to tell you.

So many memories waiting to be made with you.

~

You were only young when the monster came.

I hid it from you with normality,

Protected you from its roar;

All my fears, left unsaid.

…

Writing, growing, learning and connecting with February prompt-a-day over at write alm; today’s is ‘left unsaid’.