Mother's Day
Added 2017-05-12 15:54:09 +0000 UTCWhen I scrolled back through my pictures to find a photo to use for this post, it hurt to realise how far back I had to go. This is a photo of a nice moment - I thought at the time that it was a very good encapsulation of how my dad looked after mum. This was after her first round of chemo - before we knew that it hadn't worked and that nothing would. At Redleaf pool, which she loved.
But scrolling back made me feel an unpleasant surge of distance - a feeling of time as space. Relentless. My mama is borne back in time by this ruthless forward motion. I'm taken further away from the space in time where she... was.
This weekend is Mother's Day in Australia, and it's nice to see people's expressions of gratitude and love. It also hurts like a nasty little head butt into your ribs from your heart. Every time, it's like a kick from the inside, like your stupid hurt heart is trying to get out.
It's nice in a way, because that happens often just because. At least this weekend it feels somehow more okay to be missing your mum.
It doesn't go away, that feeling. Or rather, there's a thing that will never come back. The absence is always there. It's good. I remember being afraid, when I was first grieving that I would stop feeling sad. A strange urge to keep the rawness of grief - because it wouldn't seem right to stop feeling it.
Death doesn't become less sad - because the moment of death is the beginning of a time that will span forever - the moment of death marked the beginning of a world where I will never have a mum again.
You get used to it.
