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.
One of my favourite memories of Mum, is when she would come back from a food shop, or a bakery with a brown paper bag, and a big smile. Even if we had argued, she would still bring me some sort of baked good. Chocolate eclairs, cinnamon buns, sausage rolls. My favourite was a Belgian … Continue reading Belgian Bun
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.
Yes, and I am finally living it.
I don’t feel fear like I used to. I’ve learnt that the only thing that you can actually count on in this life is, in fact, change. I don’t try and run away from it anymore; running away takes up too much energy anyway. It’s easier to face it straight on, embrace it, and jump.
Today, I bleed. In the space of a year, everything has changed.
