The Luxury of Self

It’s been a little while hasn’t it?

I managed to move in to that affordable flat that I was willing the universe to send to me through endless manifestations and positive thinking.  

A lovely flat with my friend and my dear cat, Daisy. A flat that is so much more spacious and quiet than I ever thought possible for London. 

Much like how I decorate my new room with little trinkets (some new, some brought from Devon), I now decorate my days with activities, new and old. Activities that I want to do.

Once again, Sundays have become my favourite day of the week. My phone is turned off, I catch up with Great British Bake Off, and I practice painting with watercolours. I’ve joined the library too and have spent countless hours cuddled up with my cat just reading.

Healing.

This new room reflects my mind. It’s mine now. I haven’t been able to say that since, gosh, I don’t remember when. Memories aren’t forced upon me of the time Mum was ill and- no. There’s a calmness now.

This space is mine, my time is mine, my mind is mine. I share it with who I want to. 

What a luxury. 

Someone told me once that I’d be happy, but I’d be alone.

Reflecting on that comment, I catch myself smiling sometimes. After such chaos what a luxury to finally feel so peaceful on my own? What a luxury to be able to be so self-centred, so selfish? What a luxury, to have normal complaints that friends my own age can relate to? What a luxury to moan and laugh about our troubles with men rather than query what type of landlord insurance I need and how the heck do I declare tax? What a luxury to make a last minute decision to go to that party and wake up the next day covered in glitter and hazy memories from the night before – What a luxury to feel 24?

Sometimes, not knowing what to do with this new-found freedom, I just lie back on my bed. I revel in the morning sunshine that casts rainbows all over my my bedroom walls, refracting through the sun catcher hanging in my window.

Mum would love these rainbows. 

Mum. 

Inevitably, I also think of the growing space between us now. The distance, but also the space that time has created over these last 14 months.

London has been a drastic change from Devon. I’ve started a job that she will never hear about. I’ll never tell her my London anecdotes. I’ll never again hear her say “Oh, I just love the theatre, you must go, you must!”

I see countless faces on the tube every day. In all of them, I still search for hers. And I wonder, is my mum less real in a place where none of these faces knew hers?

 Is my mum less real in my new flat, in my “new” life that she will never visit? 

Katie

Copyright © 2019 The Grief Reality. All Rights Reserved

Watercolour and fine liner Hare

11 thoughts on “The Luxury of Self

  1. I lost my mum 20 years ago in February. For you, as for me – still – I hope you find moments to talk with her, out loud or silent, and share with her stories and thoughts that you have. As time goes by, we are given the grace to start to remember them more often in happy memories than the said ones at their passing. I promise! Meanwhile, keep breathing and keep working through your grief, step by step.

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  2. That painting is wonderful. Just made me smile. My mum has been gone now for 3 years. I went through a stage of feeling sad about not being able to tell her about new stuff. Then for some reason I found a lovely photo of her and started telling the photo all the new stuff. It’s really helped. Must admit (this is really lazy) I got tired of saying the same thing to the photo and my partners ashes. So I moved them together so I didn’t need to repeat myself.

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    1. Hi! Thanks for saying so!

      That’s a really good idea, I keep photos on me at all times but maybe a specific place to dedicate time to actually say it all aloud would be a good move.

      Cant help but laugh a little that you moved them both next to each other to save repeating yourself – how funny!

      I needed a pick me up today and your comment was just that, thank you 🙂

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  3. Your painting is lovely! I can see you have a great creative flare!
    London sounds amazing! I’m sure you never run out of inspiration of things to paint in London!
    I love cats too!!! Daisy is such a cute name! I have a kitten named Mini!
    I’m so happy that you’ve begun to find healing.
    God bless!
    ❤ Abi Lyn

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