Thankfully my weekend starts today, as I am off work on Fridays; it has felt like a long week, even though I have only been at work for three days. Yesterday was definitely my easiest day in the office so far, as I was able to focus and be more productive. But every Friday is an anniversary of Mum’s death , she died 4 weeks ago today. It feels as though we have been without mum for much longer than a month, what a month that has been. So when people kindly tell me that it is ” still early days” they are not wrong and I possibly need to learn to be kinder to myself and to be more patient. Every Friday is an anniversary, but I am conscious that we will have to face her 80th birthday in September without her there to celebrate with us, the first Christmas when she does not come up to stay with us and of course, our first Mothers day without our beloved Mum. But it is not just those big dates when we will feel our loss more acutely, it is whenever we want to tell or ask her something, on a daily basis. My sister has filled my Saturday morning phone call window, which really helps to get me through the weekends, so far, but we also speak and message, throughout the week too.
When Mum first went into hospital, I set up a Whats App group for my Aunts, mum’s sisters, to be able to update them with the same news simply and quickly. That same group has been invaluable since Mum died, for mutual support and to detail funeral arrangements . But now we still use it to wish each other good night, to share our favourite photographs and to send virtual hugs to each other each day. I have warned them that they may be stuck with us forever now, as we cling to everything that reminds us of Mum and what better, than her own flesh and blood.
I was mesmerized by a television programme last night, documenting the work of the Ambulance service in the North West. It was fascinating to see the pressures that dispatchers and paramedics were under and the range of emergencies that they were dealing with. But they were also taking patients to the two hospitals that Mum had stayed in recently and so it seemed more personal and I was eagerly looking out for her wards or medical staff that might also have attended to Mum.
There are reminders of Mum’s life and hospital stay, wherever I look and at the moment, I want to be reminded, I find comfort in those things, now that the sympathy cards and flowers have stopped arriving.