My Mum is gravely ill and it won’t be long before I, and my siblings, and our wider family, and all her friends, lose her from our lives.
The truth is, she’s already gone… her body remains, but she has fallen into a long and restful sleep. This has been difficult to come to terms with.
She is loved and we have all been blessed by her love.
Her passing has always, throughout my life, been my greatest fear… and those days of perceived incomprehensible terror have arrived.
I have to admit that the past few months have - with the deterioration of her physical health and cognitive function - thrown me into a state of incredulous confusion, but clarity returned in the early hours of this morning and I am no longer afraid.
I broke up with my girlfriend, yesterday, and the culmination of all this chaos had me, last night, seriously consider whether it was worth sticking around at all. I couldn’t imagine a future after so much loss. There are many challenges to come, including the possibility of homelessness and abject poverty, and the dark imaginings of the mind were clouding my consciousness.
My Mum brought me into this world and, through my ‘depressive’ years, saved me so many times, when many other parents would have kicked me out and turned their backs on me.
What an insult it would be, then, after all that love and saintly patience, if I were to transmute the positive energy she gifted me into something dark and negative, which I would use as fuel to compel myself to a miserable ending.
Although there will be those who say I’m wrong or uncaring, when the time comes, I’m not going to grieve her physical passing… I’m going to celebrate her by living my life the best I can; by growing stronger and making sure that the gift she gave me is treasured and put to the best use I can find for it.