
Five years ago today my Mum died suddenly on a beach on Greece. The day itself is imprinted in my memory – the phone call from Dad, the conversations about what we were going to do. The shock. The horror. The panic. The grief. It felt like it would never end.
Then suddenly you realise that whilst your grief is there – it remains the same size as the day the bereavement happened – life has grown around it. Our lives have moved on and developed and we have lots of good things. There is so much of our lives, particularly with regard to the children that Mum was never present for. That’s painful but at the same time our things go on and we have to make an effort to be fully present every day.
This evening Dad, my sister Louise and I went out for dinner. Twice a year we try and go out just the three of us – Mum’s birthday and, erm, Mum’s death day. I love that this has become our routine.
We had a lovely meal with good cocktails and wine. We talked about Mum, we talked about life and plans and good things. I love Dad and Lou and I love that we can enjoy remembering and we can grieve together.
Despite sadness our lives are good. They are rich and fruitful and I am grateful for all we have.