It's been ten years since we lost our Mum. Ten years today. That's a long time. A long time for memories to still feel fresh and pain to still feel raw. It's easier to just push it aside most of the time, but as the anniversary draws closer, it always gets harder...so I keep pushing, until the day, and then I have a little fall apart.
This year is different than the years before. Before I was far away, I could pretend, because I wouldn't have the opportunity to see her anyway, but now I am back in my old home country, where she was, faced with the very stark reality that she is not here with us. It is just so very sad. I know that she would have been overjoyed at our return, to get to spend time with her grand-kids, to have us all together again.
I feel like there aren't many ways to remember her. I don't know if she had a favourite food, or something that she loved to do, because she was always about serving everybody else. The only way I have to remember and celebrate her is to buy freesias, so that is what I do every year.
But this year, after dropping the kids at school, in this new place where we live, I could not find a single florist open. So I traipsed the streets alone, feeling sad, then came home and texted my brothers and sister. The date is easy for me to remember, because it is the day before my son's birthday, but I don't know if others have chosen to remember it or not...it's delicate ground.
I went out again, later in the day and found one florist open, but no freesias and no suggestion of where I might find some. Two other florists were closed for the day. It just added to the hopelessness of it all. So I had to settle for a little bouquet with roses instead. Simple (and it was on sale, which Mum would have appreciated) but roses are my favourite, not hers and it wasn't what I wanted for today.