Mother’s Day isn’t quite what it used to be. For as long as I can remember, I have always known that I had a very special mother, that apart from strange blips in my adolescence, I always believed I was incredibly lucky to have had her. She was my life’s greatest blessing.
When Mother’s Day would come around, it was not nearly enough to celebrate and thank her, but it would come anyway, and I’d give her chocolate, slippers, breakfast in bed, and a card in the morning before the family gathered for a meal and chocolate cake.
The first Mother’s Day that came without my mother felt hollow, somewhat meaningless, annoying even. It still feels like an event I’m no longer invited to— Kicked out and shut out forever.
Five little ones sleeping peacefully- each of them positioned around their mother, close enough to reach out should a bad dream come their way. It was there, she prayed she would be able to hold them close for as long as time would allow.
When I was a little girl my siblings and I rarely slept in our bedrooms. Dad worked nights as a Taxi driver which meant the evenings were reserved for my mother and us kids. Evenings felt like another world, it was a hidden safe space.
Every night, after dinner and baths, my mother would slide our mattresses out of our bedrooms and lay them across the living room floor.
We would help by carrying out our blankets and pillows before finding a comfy place to snuggle in and watch TV shows before we went to sleep.
It was our cocoon.
Each of us fell asleep within an arms reach of each other, safe and sound.
The cocoon was warm, comforting and undetected by monsters and bad things.
There, in our cocoon, it seemed nothing could go wrong.
It was just a mother and her babies; my mother and us kids.
Today marks 4 years since my mum’s passing, which seems absolutely surreal. Today, I thought I’d share a piece of writing I made recently in thought of her.
I Dreamt of You
by H. WEND
The sky nearing sunset, We sat on a hill; Our favourite place. Lush green grass beneath us, A bed of sunflowers. Just us and the world. As it had always been. We were watching the sky, As the sun began to fall; Soft pink and orange hues, Purple ink bled through scattered clouds. I saw the evening light touch your face… Your skin, your green speckled eyes– Illuminated by the light. It was as if, Maybe, You had never left. The wind blew a gentle breeze. I took a deep breath. Suddenly, I realised the depth Of missing you. Desperation filled my lungs, My heart grew heavy. “Mum,” I whispered, “I don’t want this to end.” The wind grew stronger, Singing as it swirled around us. You smiled, took my hand in yours, And, you said, “We don’t have much longer, Stay in this moment with me.” Then you nodded toward the sunset; An array of the most beautiful colours Painted across the sky before us. And us, At the edge of night. Our world; Slowly fading, slowly fading. It was painstakingly beautiful, It was all too familiar, It was ‘Goodbye’.