I see a girl who got through a difficult year of her life. It was nothing like the worst, but it was nothing like the easiest. I see a girl who has been hurt, who has healed, and who looks to the future with bright eyes. I see a girl who is not perfect, who makes a plethora of mistakes, who has a library of stories and someone who keeps on trying, no matter what.
All my love and support, Katie
Losing our mum aged me in so many ways, which I have mentioned a lot in blog posts before. Mum would always call me a "party girl" which used to make me cringe, but I quite liked the colourful description. I liked that people thought I was colourful and energetic.
Merry Christmas and Happy New year, Grievers, and as difficult as it may be, try to begin each day with a smile. It really does help. 🙂 Peace and blessings!
I would like my next project to be lavender with bees buzzing around it. I will look at it and remember my mum cross-stitching her hair rocking chair by the fire, and how she would look over her glasses at me. I will look at it and remember how she bought a magnifying lamp for her cross-stitch and how Katie and I would laugh at her peering into it.
Grieving in plain sight: the fact we will all grieve yet society is so uncomfortable by it, that the griever has to protect everyone else. Every day.
I think a part of me is afraid to really dive into those words that have become a regular line in my narrative. I am afraid to miss my mum, because what if I miss her wrong? What if I remember something wrong? What if I drown?
We never had any Big Talks. But over those three months we slowly rediscovered each other. Nothing magical (unless you count being able to laugh together again magical). Just us.
Your grief is seen and felt, even at the time of the Christmas spirit and when all is merry. You are seen. You are heard. Your loved one, nor you, is forgotten.
~ I hope I can bring you a small moment of peace as well ~
A video I spent way too long working on.
