It used to be this but now it’s this…
That’s not a cry for sympathy. The opposite in fact. There is hope. There is always hope. We may not have the rock in our lives, but the cliché rings true, “mummy” will forever be in our hearts.
There are still the juddering pangs of reality; they come at pace and often without warning. It might in the aisle of Tesco or walking the promenade with the dog at first light as the waves wash up and retreat with every step. “She’s not coming back.” Sweet lord we may have this lifetime and more to go before we see that smile again.
It hit home this week when we finally got around to putting the Christmas tree up. Incidentally, it’s on its last legs, fairy lights are fading to a smoky yellow rather than a bright white and the box it came in is close to submission. One more run of Sellotape could send it over the edge.
No, it wasn’t the dodgy lights or Pisa impersonation of the decade old tree, it was the accessories. One in particular. It simply reads: Christmas 2015 with the names Conor, Gill and Paul. Turns out that was the only Christmas we got together.
Such an awful return for mummy and son who would have blossomed together and breezed through life.
Not to be. Gill never smoked and rarely drank. Her clumsy innocence meant using a lighter was beyond her. Her real vices were love and laughter. It’s why we miss her so very much at this time of year, she was made for Christmas, that smile lit up many a room.
No matter. Not our call. We keep moving forward. We hold onto the memories with all we have.
That shoe trio was from happy times in the cottage in Loans after a long, blissful day roaming our favourite beach along the Scottish west coast. Memories to behold.
Happy Christmas. Live, love, be happy.