...it's time to rewrite your story...
Photo Credit: Patrick Fore - Unsplash
A year too long...
Tomorrow my Mum has been passed for a year and it is a year too long. Click here to read more... Photo Credit : Jarl Schmidt - Unsplash
LIFE MUSINGSGRIEVING AND DEATH
Amanda Harwood
10/11/20243 min read


Almost a year ago today I lost my Mum. What a fucking year it has been. One that I don't want to repeat anytime soon. Apparently the first year is the hardest they say. Let's hope that's true. I don't think I could take another year of this.
It's not the crying at the most inconvenient times or the heartbreak that you feel. It's not the big emotions that wear you down. It's that vague feeling that something is off or missing and for a second you think, "What have I forgotten?" and then you feel the sinking in your stomach and the flutter of your heart and you realise that you feel this way because your Mum isn't here anymore. Then the big emotions push their way through. Damn you song on the radio! Damn you lady who laughs like Mum! Damn anything that reminds me that my Mum is dead and I will no longer get to tell her that I love her or can she please cut her long story short (Mum's stories could go on for days). No longer will I see the light in Mum's eyes as she gets a hug from one of her many grandchildren. No longer, no longer, no longer... it's so fucking unfair! I WANT MY MUM BACK!!
I wonder if she's around. For all of my clairvoyant and mediumship abilities, I haven't seen my Mum in spirit since the day she died. I can't imagine her not being here in spirit though. She was always such a busy body. Surely she would want to keep up with what's happening with her daughters... Her youngest grandchild, Georgie, is just about to turn two in December and she is talking up a storm (her favourite word being shit - I pretend she's really saying sheep). Sometimes when she is talking to herself, I hear her say the word Poco, which is what all the grandchildren called my Stepdad. I just can't imagine that if he was around watching Georgie that Mum wouldn't be here too.
But that's cool that she hasn't appeared to me. She most probably knows that I wouldn't handle it very well because then I would know that this is real and not some god awful nightmare that I can't wake up from. And I get it! This is life. We are born and then we die. It's just one of the many cycles of life. I just wasn't ready for Mum to be gone so soon.
If I had to look at positives from this situation it's that I have been trying my darnedest not to dwell on things that I can't change or have no control over. I'm trying to step out of my comfort zone more and enjoy life. Because you just never know when your time is up, do you? When it's my time to go, I don't want to have any regrets. Physically, it has been handy to know that what my Mum and my Grandfather died of is hereditary, so we've all been tested for signs of it. Unfortunately, I have very mild symptoms of it but at least now I know. I can keep track of it. It has changed all of my priorities though. It is of the utmost importance that I keep my stress levels as low as possible which means meditation, breathwork, exercise and healthy eating have jumped to top of my to-do list each day, rather than getting dropped when life becomes hectic. Just in the short time I've known that I'm at risk of developing it, I have already gotten my blood pressure nearly back to normal without medication. I intend to die of old age, not a rupture to a dissection of the aorta.
Lastly, life without Mum has funnily enough made me appreciate life with the people I love that are still here. I try to be absolutely present in the moment when I'm with someone. No multitasking, no phone, iPad or book. I want to remember every single precious moment that I get to share with those that I love because as we all know it is inevitable that one day I won't be here either.
So, if your parents are still around and you live nearby, go, get in your car and go, give them a hug. Not a quick slap-on-the-back hug but a real long eleven second hug; the kind where you melt into one another because the endorphins have made your body go aaahhhh, and tell them that you love them, before it's too late.
Until next time...
Mum & Nick at our wedding. Photo Credit: Nathan Maddigan