It’s 5 years, 1825 days, 43,788 hours since you’ve been gone.
1827 days since I last heard your voice.
Your last words to me “Hold my hand Kirst” as you battled through the pain…as the evil that is cancer took your life.
I held your hand tight and I stroked your hair…you hated anyone touching your head but I needed to remember how soft your hair was. Much softer than mine.
We needed you then.
We still need you now.
It’s only the 2,179,965th time that I have missed you and wished that you were here.
You’ve missed so much. Our lives have carried on without you and I know that you would be proud of us all.
We have tried our best to live. As you would have wanted us to.
Yet the pain doesn’t go.
It still hurts…we’re just used to it. My breath is still taken as the full force of your loss hits time and again.
This anniversary it’s harder. It falls on a Sunday for the first time since you died. The same day of the week. The town Christmas lights will be switched on today too…as on the day that you died. Their lights were lit whilst your light was gone.
I hate that you were taken. I hate that you went when I needed you so much. We needed you. Since you’ve gone we’ve clung together. Grown closer almost. Our mutual grief binds us more closely than before. The people that matter stayed with us. We’ve learnt who our friends are.
There’s a horrid guilt that I hold…I wish that someone else had been taken and not you. You deserved to live. A terrible thought but an honest one.
I love you. We love you. There’s a giant hole in my heart…and I ache to have you here.
The girls talk about you even though H never met you and Evie barely remembers you. They know that you’re in heaven with Joshua…they say that you’re “on a cloud like Mary Poppins”. I love that. When I watch that film with them, I remember watching it with you. I remember you singing those songs to me…”Feed the Birds” always makes me cry.
I’m jealous of all of those people who still have their mum’s. They have them and they don’t appreciate them. They take them for granted as I used to take you for granted. I feel guilt for that.
When I think of you I remember love. Safety. Laughter and being pulled into line. Arguments and education of the world. At your apron strings, I learnt about politics, cricket and inherited a strong sense of moral justice. I remember the bravery that you showed in your fight for life and in your life as a whole.
I remember the smell of your perfume, your brown eyes but more than that…
Your hands, mine are like yours. But your fingers were deft, more creative than mine.
Your freckles…how they dotted your arms and your hands.
Your laugh. The security that that laughter gave me. I miss hearing that.
Your smile. How when you looked at us with pride…or when we’d done something daft. I miss that.
Your ears…how you preferred certain earrings. How they looked. I handle your jewellery now and remember occasions when you wore it. I feel closer to you.
I remember how the house would smell of bleach as you lavished it as you cleaned. How you couldn’t smell so you always used more than you should.
You taught me to respect books…to be careful of them. How to clean door brasses and how you would tell me off for not ironing properly.
So many things. Little things but so important to me. I miss your advice and you listening to me. No one does that like you could. I miss being your child.
I never appreciated what an amazing mum you were…what amazing parents I have. I thought everyone had the same. I was naive. Insulated. Protected. So lucky in having you, in having my family.
I hear your voice so often as to what you would say. I often feel as though you’re still here and in a way, I suppose, you are. I am part of you. You made me. You taught me and loved me.
When I had a mum like you, losing you was always going to cause such pain and grief.
To my dearest, most beautiful Mummy, I miss you with my whole heart. Until I hold your hand again. ❤️