Today is three years since you left this world. It’s not a bad memory, that night is still a bit of a blur in my mind. We used to talk about your death and I used to tell you that you couldn’t leave because I wouldn’t be able to cope without you. You’d be serious for a while and ask me to promise not to hold you here, because it wouldn’t be fair on either of us.
Well; three years ago today, I sat next to your body on the bed and I told you that even though I was seriously, seriously, angry with you for leaving so unexpectedly, I would keep my promise and let you go. I said goodbye through salty tears and sent you away with all my love.
And then I learnt to cope with only memories of you to keep me company.
You were not perfect and you never pretended to be. You taught me that love is not about ignoring the imperfections in others, but loving them more because of them. You were at all times; my best friend, my sister, my mother. You gave me the freedom to be myself, but I always knew that I had you as a safety net. You frustrated me beyond measure, shoved me gently out of the nest and taught me to fly, and I will always love you and miss your physical presence.
I am eternally grateful that right until your passing you remained yourself; quiet, dignified, beautiful and always loving. Even though I miss you, it doesn’t hurt and I am not sad. You got what you wished for so much. Rest.
I love you, Mom.
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