It gets harder…

This evening, strolling around our local park as my boys rode their bikes, I impulsively started singing ‘My Favourite Things’ from The Sound of Music and promptly burst into tears as a crystal-clear image appeared in my head of my mother singing that song with my siblings and I when we were children. A few minutes later another memory swept over me, as vivid as if it were before me again, of her and her partner Dirk walking that very same stretch of park with me and my family less than four months ago, playing and laughing. They had arrived from South Africa earlier that morning, and we were to embark on our ill-fated holiday to Scotland the following day.

I miss her all the time. I miss her in all the corners of my heart and mind. I miss with even more desperation than ever before right now, when life presents impossible and painful choices, and I want nothing more than her sound advice and unwavering support.

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8 thoughts on “It gets harder…

  1. I’m so sorry for all this pain you are going through.

    My dad, a wise old stick, is still alive. When I’m unsure about my way forward, I can ‘hear’ what he would have to say about it, without needing to actually ask him. I don’t always listen, of course, although he is usually right! I’m sure that just as you hear your mother singing and see her image so clearly, you will also be able to continue to hear her wisdom and listen to her sound advice.

    1. Thank you, and yes, her voice has always been with me, even when she was still alive. It’s helped me many a time throughout my life, and will always continue to do so. There are just those helpless, hopeless times when I could really do with actually having her there…

  2. The cycles of grief are surprising, aren’t they? They way they seem to be ebbing and then return with such force it’s as though they’ve just begun. Only this morning I realised I really needed to talk to Tess about difficult issues that life has thrown up and that i know she could help me think through. Her internal voice is very important at these times, but as you say, Lau, one really just wants to cross this death divide, pick up the phone and have her speak. It’s hard. And as much as we all recognise the finality, and each recognises our own strengths to work these things out ourselves, we really miss her life force. Lots of love.

  3. It seems counter-intuitive that the waves of missing them seem to intensify the longer they are gone. It attacks you in unexpected ways and with a ferocity that is unexpected. I find myself missing my mother more acutely than I did before, when I didn’t even believe that was possible. My thoughts are with you.

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