It doesn’t get any easier as the years go by.
As the 4th of May approached for the seventh time since I lost my mum Joani I felt a familiar emptiness that bubbles to the surface every year on her birthday reminding me how much I lost when my mum passed away.
I knew my mum was ready to leave this earth but selfishly I wanted her to stay around for me.
Joani accepted her fate when she died, she told me many times she didn’t want to be dependent on others like her own mother had relied on her. She said she wouldn’t place that burden on me.
Even though my mum was okay about it, I’m not okay with it.
I feel cheated by time.
Leaving home to marry at a young age meant I didn’t see my mum often and life in my 20s and 30s disappeared in a whirlwind of raising a family and establishing a career. My mum was always a part of my busy life but I didn’t appreciate that our time was limited.
All too soon I hit my 40s and ironically decided to cut back on my working hours the year my mum died.
I wish I could have some of that time back to sit and talk to my mum who was always there for me.
I wish I could hold her hand and feel her loving arms around me.
I wish we had more time together.