Thursday, 13 September 2012

Making a move.

   As I get ready to go home for the first time since New Years I feel anxious, and then confused. I have written already about 'Home Sweet Home' being where the heart is, and I do believe this, but Mum isn't at home anymore so it changes the place as a whole. It'll be strange going in and seeing her hand painted plaques, 'mumsie' magnets on the fridge and country home ornaments dotted upon various surfaces. It'll be strange visiting her grave and seeing how the grass has gown over evenly, giving her flowers that she'll never be able to really appreciate. It's just strange. Almost a year on, and it's even stranger so. It feels like Christmas, the air is thinning, and an anxious excitement has been creeping up on me for the past week. 
   I had said that I was going to write up entries from a year ago, see where I was this time last year and here's one from the 9th and 10th September... 

9th September 2011
Dundee Church Retreat September 2011
Frank Worgan - “But of course you’re Mum will never die, with you alive you’re a spitting image of her.”
<3 You will never know the lump in my throat that came, and went, before I cried into your shoulder.
10th September 2011
 Mum got the stair lift put in 2 days after I left them.
It’s the 10th September - 3 months before the wedding. I’m at the Dundee Church Retreat in Arbroath and I was falling asleep yesterday thinking about the wedding. About how Mum might be at Aubrey’s, about how she might not be at mine or Shanae’s - so she should be documented, so we can play it back and live it with her there in some form.
    Then I thought, well, how it could be done, and who could do it - Brittney Cameron. She is an amazing photographer, really waits for the shot, naturally... maybe she could film a bit as well…
    I’d have to ask Aubrey and Sara and Dad for permission, and maybe Mum? But that might make her self conscious and not act naturally… Imagine preparing testimony to those you love because you know you’re going to die... That’s no way to live the time you have left, is it?
    I’d pay her and everything, who can put a price on memories of her Mother?
   I don’t know how I will be when she goes. Be it a few months, years or decades - losing your Mother is much the same how ever old you are.
I’m reminded of Tawny Owl from Brownies. She dies last year at the age of 42 or something close, her daughter was Oswald’s house at school and I didn’t even realise at the time. Tawny Owl didn’t have anything wrong with her, and she wasn’t even the victim of a crime. A bubble of air got into her bloodstream, she complained of a pain in her knee - she collapsed hours later and died, the bubble got into her heart. There was nothing wrong with her, she just died.
    At least I’ll be prepared for grieving.

Ah crazy. Well, I think it's time for me to make a move and get my suitcase in the car. 
   Readership - I'll see you in England.

No comments:

Post a Comment