A suitable farewell
A suitable farewell – I hadn’t realised how popular Mum was (and I am positive she didn’t either). The church at her funeral was packed and overflowing
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MusingsDaughtering
Empty Space
It’s the empty space that’s the hardest. It lives in my heart, my head, my phone + at the end of the street. I want to walk down + talk to Mum.
Peacefully sleeping
Mum is peacefully sleeping now. Rousing, barely, to smile at the sound of her children talking, sharing stories.
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Musings
Don’t panic
I have really struggled with understanding what I need to write about this week. It seems much harder, which is probably a great reflection of the rollercoaster week it’s been.
Playing statues
Today Mum is still like statue. She’s here but she’s not. Her body isn’t reading any signals to move and her face shows peace.
I dress her in her pretty shirt that she picked out, help her into a chair, put her tiny tub of Bircher muesli and cup of tea next to her and we both sit. Still. Like statues.
How do you define one day from the next when you are dying
How do we define one day from the next when you are dying? How are you? It’s how we greet. Sometimes we care about the answer other times we don’t
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Musings
The odd one out
This is the second post in a series about my mother’s journey to her death. It’s hard feeling like the odd one out. I am an introvert in an extroverted