"The death of a mother is the first sorrow wept without her"
-Author unknown
Dear Readers,
Once again I have no Monday vase to share with you. Instead only the tragic news that my lovely mother passed away last week. Words are hard for me right now - emotions are running high and my life feels rather empty. It has been a long couple of months as she went in and out of hospital - the recent joy of her return home quickly evaporated as it became clear that her condition was deteriorating rapidly and another trip into hospital was not an option. Her final days were peaceful and she slipped away when it was just the two of us together. As an only child our relationship has always been intense and I am relieved that I was with her at the end.
This has been a glorious autumn but it has slipped past me in a blur of hospital wards, doctors and a new found medical language of conditions, medications and treatments. The ensuing emptiness now that it is all over is hard to bear and as her many friends and relatives contact me to share their grief I keep going to pick up the phone to her to say 'guess who I have just spoken to' as I would in the old days - only to realise that she is no longer at the end of the line as she has been all my life.
Life will carry on though and I know that the sun will shine again, although it may never feel quite the same without her. Her funeral is next week and then we will celebrate the festive season quietly, getting used to our smaller family group. After that I will start to pick up the threads of my life again - seed sowing season will be upon me and there will be a new year to welcome in.
"The death of a mother is the first sorrow wept without her"
-Author unknown
Dear Readers,
Once again I have no Monday vase to share with you. Instead only the tragic news that my lovely mother passed away last week. Words are hard for me right now - emotions are running high and my life feels rather empty. It has been a long couple of months as she went in and out of hospital - the recent joy of her return home quickly evaporated as it became clear that her condition was deteriorating rapidly and another trip into hospital was not an option. Her final days were peaceful and she slipped away when it was just the two of us together. As an only child our relationship has always been intense and I am relieved that I was with her at the end.
This has been a glorious autumn but it has slipped past me in a blur of hospital wards, doctors and a new found medical language of conditions, medications and treatments. The ensuing emptiness now that it is all over is hard to bear and as her many friends and relatives contact me to share their grief I keep going to pick up the phone to her to say 'guess who I have just spoken to' as I would in the old days - only to realise that she is no longer at the end of the line as she has been all my life.
Life will carry on though and I know that the sun will shine again, although it may never feel quite the same without her. Her funeral is next week and then we will celebrate the festive season quietly, getting used to our smaller family group. After that I will start to pick up the threads of my life again - seed sowing season will be upon me and there will be a new year to welcome in.
