Hard times

I can hardly believe it has been a year since I sat by the side of a hospital bed and spent my last moments with my sweet Mum, holding her hand and telling her, just one final time, that I loved her. In some ways it seems an eternity ago, and such a lot (good and pretty horrible) has gone on in that time. In other ways it feels that it's just like yesterday. Either way, it hurts... like hard stone lodged in my soul... and it hurts a lot.

Sometimes, maybe even most of the time, I can remain relatively bright, shiny and positive and force myself to remember and focus upon only the good and beautiful things about how fortunate I was to share my life with her. Other times (like most of this damn week) I just want to curl up and howl at her loss.

As much as I miss her, I would not wish her back to the pain and helplessness of her last few months. But hell, I really do miss her and it hurts. I glance down at my finger which now bears her wedding ring and I know that I'll never truly 'lose' her or my darling Dad as I carry the symbol of their love and devotion to one another with me always. That comforts me. But it still bloody hurts.

Dammit, just have to keep onwards, ever...