I write blog posts all the time, most never get published, but on Friday the 13th of April I wrote a post about it being a Friday the 13th, but more over it was riddled with large amounts of humour because among all things – it was my sisters 50th Birthday.
I still have the original post, but with a few highly distracting issues I failed to post it… As it turned out, she had her own issues and was looking after my mother during that weekend as she had to be taken to hospital for shortness of breath.
Unfortunately I wasn’t aware or made aware of this; only 3 ½ weeks ago I saw my mother and she was frankly looking great. She was back to her rhetoric which was great, seriously, she looked marvellous. She was bringing me up to speed on all the news, and telling me of other developments with her. I in turn told her of the events of this last year and why I had been unable to attend or keep up contact, generally answering questions only a mum can ask. While costs of my own travels were graciously covered by others, for much of the past 12 months I have been (like many) anchored to my dwelling and any real time news of this would have added serious stress to her. I said things were starting to improve and I’d be back more often. We also spoke of new friends and old and meeting them etc. She spoke of just how hard my sister had worked holding down a job and seeing she was sorted out and how my Aunt had done so much.
After a bizarre interjection from my sister demanding phone numbers she should have, I left planning to return on the 2nd of May and again after the 22nd. But this time was so different, she said “I do love you Sam”. I said “I know. You know I love you too right”.
So it was with an astounding shock that on this Thursday last I received an email from my brother that my Mother had died the previous Monday…
I am told that she went quickly and peacefully, a tear fell upon her cheek and she took a blessing.
So…. to a mum who when she switched on – was as razor sharp as they get, a person who knew human nature, who was there whenever I needed to pick up the phone, to simply chat, injured or even helpless. To a consistent (sometimes annoying) stubbornness, who in her later life loved nothing more than creating, helping (often in opposites) those whom needed it. Who with a weighted past longed for a greater peace and the touch of comforting love and to know… to know her kids were alright.
My mum, a mum of three…
A true Yorkshire Rose