It is ages since I have typed up a Mummy blog. So here goes….
Sometimes life doesn’t go according to plan. Life can promise you a future and then snatch it away from you in an instant. I sat with my counsellor this week and said…. Unless you are an orphaned hermit, the chances of you escaping “miss” are unheard of. The world keeps on spinning and people lose loved ones every day. It is a certainty on the “List of things life will throw at you”. We cannot live forever.
There are varying degrees of “miss” based on your relationship, timing and love and it can be a pain like nothing else. I have discovered that there are many levels of crying; I know what it feels like when tears prick your eyes, I know what both heartache and heartbreak are.
If I am fortunate to make it to life as an old Lady, I know that I will still stand by his graveside holding great miss in my heart and wondering what life could have been, would have been like.
I will also curse at the fact that we buried him on a hill, and how it interferes with my new hip and worn out knees no doubt.
I have lived with loss now for nearly 33 months, 10 more than he was here for. Each one of them holding varying levels of pain all tinged with great sadness.
Some time ago I booked a break with friends and a little tinge of happy hit my tummy, something to look forward to. It was an alien feeling and something I had not felt in such a long time. I didn’t feel guilty. I found it upsetting, to think that “happy” had not visited my being in such a long time. It wasn’t a one off, although it has visited me less time than I can count the fingers on one hand. But I did feel it and I am hopeful it will come back.
“Miss” has gate crashed my beautiful and loving Mummy moments with Isaac too. A cuddle, bath time, story time, sharing a meal, walking to school, driving in the car, trips out, holidays, family movie…. Where would Reuben be in this moment? Is he jealous of our hug? Is he joining in? Dive bombing, from the back of the chair? Pulling Isaac out of the way? Sulking? Or walking off in a huff saying that he’s too old for hugs and kisses because he’s nearly 5. But I am starting to learn to cope with these moments. Savouring each of them and storing them in my memory bank. I am mindful that I don’t want to look back when he is older and feel that I missed out on them because they were hijacked by grief.
My “miss” is still great and it is here to stay. Each day I live with it, I hope that in time it lifts a little and gives me the much earned break that I need, as “miss” is also exhausting.
My post is dedicated to all those Mummies, Daddies and siblings that know of this great “miss”
Not an orphaned hermit, but living with “Miss” since 21/8/12