Sunday, 24 May 2009

I imagined she had just walked past me

I haven't read the letter recently. In fact, I can't remember the last time I read it.

I certainly haven't digested it before, the way I did last night.

Every time I read it I understand it more; as a child, teenager, adult and now mother.

She wrote three letters in total; mine, one for my sister and one for my Dad. Each one different.

When I'd finished typing it last night I wept. The mother inside me was wondering "Where do you start a letter like that?", "How much is enough?".

I have a sample of the perfume she used to wear. I got it soon after my counselling had finished and put it away too frightened to open it.

I put a tiny dab on last night. At first I didn't recognise it, then suddenly it came flooding back. I could smell my Mum. I closed my eyes and imagined she had just walked past me.

A small comfort in a huge void.


  1. I was wondering that - how does one start a letter like that. It truly is a sign of how much she loved (and still loves) you!

  2. I may have said this before, but we have a bench for my father with a hornbeam tree behind it.
    Every now and then when I feel the need to be close to him, I can be found sitting there quietly talking with him.
    He had his own special wit and wisdom that is sorely missed.
    Hold on to your letter and the perfume and let your thoughts wander where they will.

  3. P.S. I put a link to you in a post I wrote from another blog,
    I hope you don't mind.

  4. Only now, as a parent, can I possibly imagine how hard a letter like that is to write. My friend Carol died last year of cancer, and did the same thing for her two - aged 9 and 11. She kept memory boxes for them too and I know it gives them a lot of comfort. Lovely post. xx

  5. What a heartbreaking letter that must have been to write and equally so for you to read.

    I know just writing this blog will help.


  6. Finding this blog very hard to read - but very good to read too. I am not yet up to processing all the feelings my mum's death brings up for me.....but you're providing a bit of a trail through the woods.
    As a mother, I can't even begin to think how one writes a letter like that..

  7. *hugs* I have past on a little award for you at mine. Don't know if you want it for this blog or not, not sure if it was the right thing but I want to convey how much you posts have moved me and to pass on a little appreciation x

  8. I am sat here in tears, i can't begin to imagine how difficult it must have been for your mum to accept her fate and write such a letter, being a mum it's something thats always at the back of your mind but you never really deal with it, you just push those thoughts to the back x

  9. It's funny how the internet draws people together.

    I lost my mum to leukaemia when she was 29 and I was 5. I too have a letter she wrote, but not to me, it's just a letter she wrote to my aunty but I cherish it nevertheless.

    I also struggle without my mum. I strussle with knowing how to be a mother. I worry that I won't have the 'right' instincts. I worry daily that I will leave my kids behind, the worry is not for me, it's for them. I don't want them to be alone.

    I will follow your blog as it resonates with me on many levels.

    Thank you for sharing.