I wrote some words for my mum’s funeral. She died on Thursday. I don’t know how I am going to read these but I wanted to share them… The conversation we had when mum had been told she wouldn’t recover, felt big, the beginning of something incomprehensible. Saying goodbye to the person who gave you life is terrifying. We sat on her sofa, making room for each other, small physical adjustments. I would come to appreciate that love is in all of these tiny gestures, it’s in the gaps and the pauses, in the things that are said as well as those which aren’t. It was during this conversation that’s mum told me how my sister and I had never given her a moment’s grief, and then we laughed at this, both thinking of our teenage years. She wanted us to know that we had brought her joy every day. When I couldn’t stop the tears, she asked me what I wanted for my son, and I said just for him to be happy. She said that I am her “son” and she only wants for us to be happy. She told me that we were the best thing she’d done with her life and that she’d had a wonderful life, she’d not missed out on anything. She was happy that she had travelled and seen something of the world, she’d studied, had a career and been around to see us have her grandchildren. She had met her soul ma, finding the love of her life and become a Mrs. She took so much comfort knowing her husband is loved and has become so much a part of the family. He was her rock right up until the end, always fighting for her. Over the next month’s would enjoy time with each of us, our partners and her friends who she loved immensely. She didn’t want us to have any regrets because she didn’t. She was so proud of us all. We all loved her so much it’s overwhelming. She amazed all of us with how strong she was and especially during the final part of her life. She was Graceful, accepting and brave. She was beautiful and strong. She told me she didn’t realise how strong she was until she had to be. Some of it came from losing her wonderful Dad at a young age. Some of her strength came from loss. Some of it was pure northern grit. In so in losing her we take forward her love and her strength. when we face the storm we will hold our heads high we won’t be afraid of the dark Because at the end of the storm There’s a golden sky And the sweet silver song of the lark - Thank you for the days mum Though you're gone You're with us every single day Believe me Xxx

Posted by vickyanne at 2022-06-12 18:18:01 UTC