Tuesday, March 2, 2010
One year ago today my mum died very suddenly and unexpectedly. Standing at her grave today was so much harder than the day we had to bury her. She is not buried in a graveyard but in a "Friedwald". This is a forest designated as a "graveyard". The urns are buried beneath trees. There is no cross or fancy decoration like in a graveyard. Just a little sign on the tree with the names of the people buried beneath it.
I miss her so very much. She was such a great cook and I regret not having written down all her secret recipes. My mother never had a lot of money but still she was very generous and gave us (my sister and myself) what ever she could. She loved my stitching and always complemented on my works. I miss not being able to call her and share with her. I miss going shopping with her. One of the worst things for me is that she never knew I found a new boyfriend. I never got around to telling her. Ever since she died I have been asking myself when was the last time I told her I loved her. Did I spent enough time with her? I am still so mad at the hospital because they didn't inform us about the deterioration of her condition. By the time they called me and I got to the hospital she was already dead. Cleaning out her apartment I felt like a grave robber. It was such a horrible experience.
Yet, for all my loss, I have not been able to really grieve. When she died, there was so much stuff to take care off. When things cooled down, I just couldn't bear the thought of her not being there anymore and I kept and still keep pushing the thought of her being gone out of my brain every time it creeps in there.
The Little Ship
I stood watching as the little ship sailed out to sea. The setting sun tinted the white sails with a golden light, and as she disappeared from sight a voice at my side whispered, "She is gone".
But the sea was a narrow one. On the farther shore a little band of friends had gathered to watch and wait in happy expectation. Suddenly they caught sight of the tiny sail and, at the very moment when my companion had whispered, "She is gone" a glad shout went up in joyous welcome, "Here she comes!"
I firmly believe that she is with her boyfriend who died a couple of years before she did and that she is looking down on me. For me March will always be the saddest month of the year.
I miss you Mum!!!!!!