Today is the anniversary of Mum's death. 365 days. I'm currently nursing a gorgeous, sleepy baby so can't be physically active right now. I was trying to read my book but it seems today is not a day for being passive so I thought I'd blog instead.
Today I have been active. It has helped - I feel like I've channelled all the hurt and pain into productivity. Perhaps it's just a different way of hiding from my emotions than my default mode of passively reading trashy novels though.
Today I have scrubbed the bath (I'm embarrassed to think when I last cleaned our bath before today!); I have worked on a painting; had lunch out with my family of creation and my sister, niece and Grandfather; bought the plants for and made up two hanging baskets; hoovered; considered which bunk beds to choose for my children; journaled; played Skylanders with my children; done 3 loads of laundry.... Basically I seem to have been on a mission to move, to DO something... anything.... Anything but look at how I feel about today.
I can't really believe it has been a year since I received the call to say Mum was no longer breathing, since I drove over to Mum's house in the pouring rain at 5 in the morning singing "it keeps raining and raining, tears from my eyes, can't you see that my Mummy has left me".
A year since I held my Mum's hand as the warmth left it, since I held my baby brother so tightly, since my sisters and I cracked up in hysterical (perhaps slightly maniacal) laughter at Mum leaving the house in less than stylish clothes, since we watched the 2 men (one with sparkling blue eyes that rivalled Mum's) carry Mum out of the house and drive away with Mum from her home for the last time.
How have 365 days passed since that day? Parts of that day are so clear they could have happened yesterday. What happened after that day is hazy. I remember reading. Lots. I was pregnant and had terrible morning sickness. We went to our home ed camp in Wales and came back in the middle for the funeral. I was grateful to not be at home. I had a bucket of sunflowers at my tent entrance and handed them out to friends when the camp was over.
I threw myself into running home ed activities and having adventures. I kept busy. I didn't look too closely at the Mum shaped space in my life.
Since Teddy arrived I've had to slow down to newborn speed. I've had time to look, to feel, to notice, to understand.
I'm not actually ok. I'm grieving. And that is ok.
365 days. I miss my Mum.