Waking UP

Writing on the blog is deeply personal. I imagine I sit you down, offer you tea, hold your hand and look you in the eyes. Whilst you may read this and throw it away, or never think of it again, I think of it every day. The power of you sitting with me, and giving me space to share my thoughts.

A Sunny Day

Last week I cried on the phone and said “every day I wake up and lose. I go downstairs and I lose. I get out of bed and I lose. Everything I do, I lose, lose, lose.” Well Evee, every day you wake up and win. You stretch in the morning to the sound of the birds and chatter, and you’ve won. You get out of bed by 9, and you’ve won.

Frozen Peas

I think the thing with grief is that I always want to know the ‘why’ or the ‘what’; Why did I break down after a perfectly nice weekend? What was the trigger? On Sunday night, I went to bed and woke up 23 again, in 2018. I woke up with all of the fresh pain and the memories of my mum passing away. I felt frantic and only wanted to speak to the people who were around me then.

Time Capsule

The very first photo is my lovely mum in a blue ballgown, taken on the 14th of September, 2013. I would have been 13. The royal blue of Mum’s dress brightens and flaunts her clear blue eyes. A faint, hesitant smile has only aged 7 years with fondness and love. Her hair is short, and slightly messy. I love it, but I can imagine mum brushing her fingers through it only moments beforehand.