Before The Worst

Before the worst, there was a point in my life where I had my mum, three little cats and a happiness that knew not of the grief that would intrude on my life. Before the worst,  I knew my mum’s phone number off by heart and we would speak about five times a day, neither of us running out of things to say.  

When we were just on the brink of the worst, we FaceTimed and neither of us had known it would be the last time – I still have that call logged on my laptop beside her funny little photo.

Now, after the worst has been and gone, I have learned to find a new happy.

A new happy that remembers the grief that robbed my family back in 2018 but shows up anyway. A happy that gives a little sad sigh at the end of each day and says “I wish I could facetime my mum”. 

I had to get a new phone recently. For the first time, I don’t have that funny little photo and 11 digit combination at hand, recalling the constant conversation we used to share, before the worst. 

But I remember it off by heart all the same.

I wish I could FaceTime my mum. 

~

With all of the disruption going on in the world, I hope you are taking care of yourself. Now more than ever it is important to remember to take a look back through your happy memories that you have bookmarked.

Please remember that you are not alone.

Katie

42 thoughts on “Before The Worst

    1. Yes, some days I am really taken aback by how far we have come in such little time, and just how much i will always miss my mum. But I am really comforted to be able to share my grief within this community on wordpress. Have a lovely weekend!

      Katie x

  1. Feeling the presence of all our loved ones who are journeying beyond… probably dancing a little as we remember them. Do you feel them? I know my dad is doing his happy dance now, smiling down at us as we wander through these very changing times. Much love, Barbara x

  2. Katie I give you an idea. Every year on the birthday of your mum you can organise evening of her with songs, books she loved and obviously cake.
    Greetings from Bulgaria.

  3. I wish I could go to the pub with your mum.
    To have a glass of wine and a packet of salt and vinegar crisps and to see way she would rip them open.
    We talked and talked about our children about our lives, past and future.
    I miss her dreadfully and I think – when was the last time we did this. It was at the Cockhaven Manor in Bishopsteignton.
    I miss her dreadfully but am blessed to have had her in my life . She will always be a part of it and for that I so grateful. I have you Katie and Evee as part of her.
    All my love 💕 xx

    1. We secretly got annoyed when she’d rip open the bag because she would eat them all, when we were meant to be “sharing”! haha
      Mummy would absolutely want the same. Especially now the summer days are so nice and long.
      We are so grateful to have you in our lives, because you are as much a part of her for us, as we are for you 🙂 xxxx all our love, love you Paula <3

  4. Hugs! This post indeed is bittersweet.. thanks for wishing us well considering that you are dealing with something yourself… I am glad you’ve got a new phone.. It’s a step closer…

    1. Hi Janis, thank you for commenting your support, somedays grief hits a little harder than others and yesterday was definitely one of them! Oh me too, my old phone was on it’s last legs haha, but I have stored it away in my memory box now 🙂

      Happy Sunday 💕

  5. True. I understand what you mean about grief. There’s a loss that happened several years ago, but there are days that I cry about it like it was only yesterday. You’ve got an amazing outlet for yours… I wish you well and thanks for sharing…

    1. Exactly, on those days I really try to look after myself and have written a post called Grief Day if you’re interested in taking a look 🙂 I wish you well too, Janis 🙂

      Katie x

  6. Exactly. My mom died when I was 21 and just moving out of the family home. It took years for me to break the habit of wanting to pick up the phone and call her every time something good or bad happened. I’m sure you’ve heard it a million times but 36 years later I have no grief for her (except in the abstract ‘sad that someone should die so young’ way) but I’m left with warm, loving memories that make me smile.

  7. Its comforting to hear from you that I am not alone. I too have learned to find a new happy after losing my mom. I use my cooking blog to keep her memory alive. Whenever I am cooking I feel like she is right there. 💕

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