Dreams of an Insomniac: Mum

There's so much going through my head right now.

Most of it's music, so this post is packed with it - sorry...

The main song stuck in my head is the song mum told me to play at her funeral, I Hope You Dance...

It's what mum always wanted for me, for all of us, to always hope and reach and try... and I know it's not what I always did or do... which hurts.

From the moment my sister blubbered out the news of her death, with my dad and brother stood there holding me, I've been swinging between numbness, despair, disbelief and some form of acceptance. It's the songs that keep getting stuck in my head that bring the tears back

So many people have been sending condolences and offering help, or a shoulder to cry on... but it's my family that's the biggest strength atm. As horrifying as it sounds, I'm just so glad it wasn't dad instead. Mum's emotions would have made it virtually impossible to deal with loosing dad - not to mention I'm a right daddy's little girl. Still, it's a small comfort.

The shock of it is what's upsetting me the most. The fact that she had been in so much physical pain for so long, and that she was getting better. The injections of collagen had helped with her pain levels and mobility no end, she was able to walk - even dance... though I missed her dancing because of not being able to book a hotel for the party...

Mostly, I'm hurting for my dad. Mum was his soul mate - or that's what he always told me... it was there in how he looked at her, how he spoke of her, how he looked after her... at 50 he's too young to have that ripped away. I mean, when my brother in-law committed suicide it was horrific for my sister... but he hadn't been a good husband, not in the supportive way that mum and dad were for each other. I know they got on each others nerves at times, but through everything they stood together.
25 years of love, plans, togetherness... just gone in the middle of the night... when there was no reason we knew of.

Sudden Catastrophic Heart Failure

Now we just wade through lists of people to contact, paperwork to fill in, meetings to have, things to organise. The wake, the funeral... then all of the stuff that needs sorting out besides that. And all the time trying not to hurt.

Mum always said that the love between a parent and child was one that grew towards parting... and in a way she was right. But I wasn't ready - none of us were. There were supposed to be years yet. She was supposed to be at my wedding. She was supposed to hold my first child - if not all of them. She was supposed to tell me I was doing everything wrong when I became a mum. She was supposed to hold me when my heart broke. Cry at my graduation. Try to take over when I moved house. Instead she isn't even here for Christmas.

I know that, when anyone dies, you wish you'd had just that bit more time with them. That you could have had more... that it's normal. But it doesn't make it easier.

There are times when you just want to scream and cry because it isn't fair. To have your grandparents out live your brother and your mum... it's wrong some how. And there are times that I'm so mad at her for leaving. For leaving without saying goodbye. Which I know is stupid, because it would have been even more of a surprise for her than it was for any of us.

Part of me is wishing I could believe there was more. A heaven where she's looking down on me... or some weird spirit thing where she's still here in some way. But it's not in me to believe. I don't know if it's harder or easier to feel that she's just gone...

There's a speech to write for the funeral... and I don't know what to say.

"I miss you" isn't enough... and everything else I could say is far too long. That she wasn't a saint, but she tried (well, most of the time). That she was a great mum, even if she was a batty old cow that repeated herself and was sometimes far too harsh. That she was the perfect counter part to dad. That she wouldn't want us to be sad

There's these rings that she always wore, and dad split them between us... and even though I'm not a ring person, and they don't really fit, I tend to wear mine almost every day.

Life is on hold for now... and I don't know why. Well, I do... it's just... it feels like it shouldn't be. I loose days (if not weeks) at a time lately. I just don't know what happens to time, it's just gone. I suppose that's it isn't it? Time has gone, or stopped working.

Dad turned to me the other day after waking on the sofa and sighed out "It wasn't a dream then?" - it's hard to know he's feeling that way, same as us, hard to know he's human and hurting.

A week or so ago I asked what he wanted to do and he simply said "Find a way to go back 48 hours..."