A Year Later

Dave and I having a conversation in the kitchen this evening, fuelled by wine and beer, about this current moment. A year on... whats happened and what hasn't.

I'm writing again... after a 6 month break. It may not last but I found myself writing this blog in the shower and at the dinner table and on the ride home today...so here it is.

I am a different person. I am stronger and more vulnerable at the same time.
For the first time in my life I am an adult. I mean that in the saddest, least teenage fantasy, beige tax accountant kind of way.
At 35, nearly 36, I have for the first time in my life experienced a year of life, when I alone am responsible for my own happiness without the comforting, soft landing of Mum.

I am not sure I am qualified for this. I am different to who I thought I was. Better? maybe. Worse? sure, sometimes.

I am a fitter, healthier, weirder, sadder, more aware, less oblivious, more honest, less childish, more average, darker person. It has been the hardest year, which has, in turn, made me able to do and with stand harder things.

I dont believe she is with us, or watching over us. I am sorry, I just don't feel it. I wish with all my being that she was an ethereal being following my every move and guiding me from afar, but thats not true. The closest thing I can see is that she is in me, my memories and my actions because she taught me. But if the Disney version of Ghost Mum existed, with her harp and her halo and her wings, sitting on her fluffy cloud watching me and the girls and Dave and Dad, I think she would be proud of the fact that even though it is different and it has sucked and we miss her terribly, we have lived. We have moved forward inch by inch and we will continue to.

Is 2017 that balm that we need to sooth the ragged edges left by 2016? Nah, I doubt it, but if I can write another blog in a years time, it means I have at least got my fingers, my brain and my Mac, so we will be ok....