Sunday (19th April) was eight years since my mother passed away as a result of ovarian cancer. I didn’t have the energy to write about it on the day as I was still processing my thoughts. Amy and I had a lovely day – we just went to our local town to a Farmer’s Market. I bought some cake and some honey from a local honey farm. I’ve heard it can help with allergies, which have been pretty bad this year. So, fingers crossed it helps.
I can’t believe it’s been eight years. It feels like thirty seconds but at the same time, it feels
like it’s been forever. I still occasionally think “oh, I need to tell mum…” but it’s a lot less than I used to think it. The pain of losing her hasn’t gone away, but it has just become a part of me and my world.
Someone once described grief to me as like wearing a pair of shoes that are MUCH too big for you. At first, they are very much on your mind. You have to walk slower. You have to concentrate on every single step and they’re never not on your mind. Then after a while, you get used to the shoes. You barely even notice they’re there. They just become part of you. Then occasionally, you look down at your feet and remember that you’re wearing these huge shoes.
I thought that was really quite apt. Mum has always been and will always be in my heart. I do wonder how things would be if she was still here. Things are very different to how they were when we lost her. I wonder how she would feel about me being in a relationship with a woman. I wonder whether her and my dad would still be together. I wonder if the paths of me and my sisters would have been much different without losing mum.
I guess there’s no way to know how things would have been. What I do know, though, is that every time I see a white feather I think of my mum. I’ve been told that seeing white feathers is a sign that your guardian angel is looking out for you, and I’ve had three land on me this month! Thanks for the feathers, mum. Love and miss you.