I was on the phone to beautiful brother the other day, and I was telling him how my husband could not resist giving me part of my mother’s day present early. I had to preface this with letting him know it was mother’s day here in the land down under, as back in the UK we celebrate our mummies in March. At the mention of mother’s day, my dear brother let a little sad ‘oh’. Our mum passed away 14 years ago now, lost in a mixture of accident, long-term illness and a sort of suicide that broke all our hearts. Grief is a dark black thing, and for a short period just the word ‘mum’ cut deep into our fractured beings. Even as the years went by, Mother’s day was a bitter pill to swallow. The shops full for weeks before the day announcing the celebration of someone we’d lost. People say time heals, but I don’t think it does. It does however give you the opportunity to learn many important lessons; you learn how to compartmentalize, you are more able to navigate the w...
Oversharing is my form of caring