In my mind I have 'written' so many blog posts,
but actually typing up the words is just so much harder...
I wanted to thank everyone who has been so kind,
and your words have been some comfort because
when my Father died I was told 2 things.
1. You are only crying for yourself, so stop it.
and
2. We don't want to hear about it, ok?!
For anyone who doesn't want to hear about it, that's fine,
but if you don't want to hear about it or see my tears, just move along,
it's my blog and I am trying to deal with my family's loss right now....
On the 28th of December my Mother arrived from South Africa
to spend Christmas and 5 weeks with us.
A few days later after an evening of knitting together on the sofa,
she went to bed in a very cheery mood,
reminding me to wake her the next morning.
A few minutes later I heard someone call out.
When I went to her (our) bedroom
she did not look good.
We immediately phoned the emergency services,
and I held on to Mom while she tried to get comfortable.
For a few seconds I thought I might have overreacted
by getting my husband to call for an ambulance,
but then all of a sudden she was gone.
We were instructed to perform CPR on her,
but I just knew she was gone.
I ran out to get the ambulancemen in
and they tried and tried for ages,
but to no avail.
The shock, the sadness, the unbelievable disappointment
has been very hard to bear these last few weeks.
Mom was cremated and I flew with her ashes back
to South Africa for a Memorial service
with some family and friends.
It was all so rushed,
everything so unexpected.
I am still struggling to sleep,
still feeling panicked and stressed,
still trying to remember the good and forget that awful night
and so I have been sewing again.
I had selected a few fabrics to do Bonnie Hunter's mystery quilt
before Mom died, but changed my mind about doing it...
then when I could find no peace, I started to sew...
and sew and sew and sew...
I always thought my Mother was constantly criticizing me
and I would tease her about her constant 'helpful hints and tips'.
It was only in the last few years that I'd realised
that she wasn't trying to pull me down, but help me up.
My harshest critic had been my biggest ally
and I miss her so much.
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