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A Memory

As I walked in to the wool shop, I caught a small hint of a smell that automatically made my heart lurch and turn sharply for the door.

It was a heady scent of days long past and the sun streaming in through my mothers bedroom window. Little motes fluttering in the sunshine from the talcum powder.

I am sat on the bed, watching attentively as she pampered and preened. Apply makeup, gre

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A Little Legacy – Christmas

My mum never did anything by half and Christmas was one of those things that was just magical in my home growing up. When I was younger the decorations and tree would always go up on 19th December, the day prior to my birthday and there would be crape streamers strung across the ceilings and paper bells and balls hanging from them. It was a real family affair.
Christmas decorating took a back seat after my Dad died, that is until the Grandchildren came along and then again, my mums house was a festive wonder filled with tacky decorations along side the more traditional. She might have complained about decorating, but once she made a start she wasn’t content until the Lounge, Dinning Room and Hall were all festive.

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Bittersweet

I have been trying to keep myself busy these last few weeks. Trying to avoid the feeling that has been building in my chest, the rising emptiness that has permeated my whole being. I dare not stop, I dare not let this feeling invade for the tears will start to fall and I fear that they may never stop.

Perspective, yes that is what I have needed. It is hard to admit that I am still grieving, that I am scared and that I am so frightened at the moment. That living my life can be so bloody hard. That sometimes the fear paralyses me, that I want to curl up in a little ball and not to go on.

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There is no one way to be a perfect mother

I didn’t know whether or not to do The Gallery this week. It is something that I pop in and out of when it suits my blog and I have to admit the prompt of mother love had me all of a quiver this week, as I so miss my mum and the mothers love that she provided.

We may not have agreed on everything and over the years we certainly had our ups and down, but I did feel protected in her cape of mothers love. She was there for me when I had my operations and held my hand through countless miscarriages and nightmares about dead babies when the last thing I wanted to do was close my eyes. She was there for me when I spent most of Maxi’s pregnancy in hospital, traveling the 350 miles by bus to come and sit by my side in hospital for the week before he was born, even sleeping there.

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