Sunday, 3 April 2011

Dear Mum (3)

I put this up on Mothering Sunday by mistake- foolishly I forgot that I had set a publish date on it. Anyway it went out and I got caught out by someone who has had a chance to read it before I whipped it off-line. 

She then sent me a personal email which was very touching and caught me off guard in a Birmingham Airport lounge this afternoon (thankfully my boss was busy pilfering the crisp and cake stand in the executive lounge to bring out to his minion- manager your manager part 1!!). Reminding me of my 2011 resolution to be a bit more honest and open about some of the less bright and cheery things, so I am putting this back up. Thank you- you know who you are x

I guess the intention behind some of these Dear Mum letters is to put a bit of a shape around some of these thoughts and experiences. For those of you who are lucky enough to have both parents, alive, well and full of love and pride for your achievements give them a hug. Some of us don't and wont ever have that opportunity and it can be a hard thing to get your head around. 

So in part this gives a voice to my experiences and I hope it remains an honest account of the questions I wont be able to get answers to, or any understanding of why these events happened they way they did or explain why people react the way they did and do to this. 

It may be something you can identify with or something you get some comfort from. Not many people talk about loss or grief and the circumstances surrounding them can be difficult to come to terms with regardless of age.

In short if I am going to start these Dear Mum's then I really shouldn't pick and choose- well, I will but then again that is my prerogative, but I will try not to!!!

Dear Mum,

I am nearly 30 years old and I still have nightmares. I always thought that was the kind of thing you grew out of. They would one day just stop.

You remember I used to have them a lot as a young child and would seek out your protection in the middle of the night. Curling up in your lap, as Dad lay asleep on the other side, I was safe and secure and the sweet dreams would come back.

Now you appear in my nightmares. You are small, fragile, angry and accusing. Filled with hurt and hate and furious with me:

Why didn't you do more?
How could you have let me go?
How could you have let Little Sis and Littlest Sis down so easily?
You are your fathers daughter!

I sometimes wake up crying and depressed and guilt ridden.

I can go months, years even, without having a nightmare like this but when it happens it seems to leave me totally drained for days and I have to remind myself that there was nothing I could do. 

Nothing you could do yourself. 

Nothing anyone could do. 

I am not an easy bed fellow. 

But Husband incredibly seems to know when its happening and can soothe very easily with an "It is o.k, you're alright". 

And I am alright and it is o.k. and I fall back asleep with his protection keeping the nightmare at bay.

Then there is a cruel twist- the sweet dreams of you. You are there, laughing and conspiring some mischief with me to have fun. Full of love and cuddles and smiles and kisses.

The proper you. 

On reflection I am not sure which is worse.

This will be our 10th Mothers Day without each other and I will, as I did last year, leave a card on your plaque with a note inside- just for us.

Lots of love, always 

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