“As mothers and daughters, we are connected with one another. My mother is the bones of my spine, keeping me straight and true. She is my blood, making sure it runs rich and strong. She is the beating of my heart. I cannot now imagine a life without her.” ~ Kirstin Hannah

Dear Mum,

Lately the serial worrier in me has been running rampant. I know the Bible says I shouldn’t but sometimes I just can’t help it. I have been worrying about whether I will forget you with time. Whether I will forget the slightly darker coloured tooth that showed when you smiled. Your complexion. The crinkles by your eyes. Your gorgeous hair. Your touch. Your hug. Your signature dance. Whether I will know what to do when I get married without you to tell me. I have been worrying about whether one day I will think of you and my memory will call up a blurry haze?

The list of worries is endless.

Who will show me how to look after my babies when they come? When I imagine my wedding day without you, I cry now and I fear I might cry then… a lot. We both know that when I cry I look like Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer. Who needs that on their wedding day lol. I have been worrying about whether I am doing things right everyday? If I am raising my siblings right? Wondering about what advice you would give me about life, love and finances. Wondering what funny quip you would have had about my boyfriend. I think you two would have got along like a house on fire. Wondering if I am holding on to you a little too tightly.  Wondering if I even know how to let go. Wondering if I am healing or whether I even want to. Would healing mean forgetting you?

 I don’t dream often. In fact, very seldom. Last night I had a dream. A very vivid dream. You were there. You were sitting next to me. Laughing. Smiling. It was like you never left. We talked. We laughed. It felt like hours. We talked about everything that has been worrying me. I don’t remember some of your answers but I remember your laughing face in the warm sunlight. It was so real. I drank it in. I remember it and I remembered it so clearly. When I close my eyes now I can see still see it. I felt warm and at peace. I felt like I was home. I felt like a child should feel with her mother. Absolutely safe.

 My eyes fluttered open suddenly at about 4am. The darkness blinded me briefly after so much sunlight. As I blinked and slowly adjusted to the darkness, the words formed in my mind, “She’s not really here. It was only a dream.” I didn’t cry. I just lay there quietly. The image was gone but the feeling was still there and for a long long while, it felt like you were still there too.

I love you.