Yes, Lily ... it's strange how Bertie dying (Mum's dog)had a kind of 'moving on' effect, another link with the past gone ... but a need to take care of my own future now as well, after having looked after the children and mum for a few years after Dad died. I do feel that I am coming into a brighter phase of my life now though especially now that my debt worries are ALMOST resolved
I may have sent you this before ... but if not this is a poem that I often have found comfort from and use for other families at their time of bereavement ... I hope that it might also bring some comfort to you ... see what you've started Ang ... all this reflexivity that Dyson has facilitated in us [:)]
Debbie
Your mother is always with you.
She’s the whisper of the leaves
As you walk down the street.
She’s the smell of bleach
In your freshly laundered socks.
She’s the cool hand on your brow
When you’re not well.
Your mother lives inside your laughter.
She’s crystallized in every tear drop.
She’s the place you came from,
Your first home.
She’s the map you follow
With every step you take.
She’s your first love
And your first heartbreak …
And nothing on earth can separate you.
