Where troubles melt like lemon drops...

Grief. A tiny word. Too tiny to describe the unsurmountable pain and saddness which comes from losing a loved one. It should be a bigger word.

"Mommy didn't make it". Those words are too big to fit into your tiny ears. Instead, they bash a hole in your head, and keep hammering until your human brain explodes. Once inside, the words help Sadness and Longing to set up home in the pit of your stomach. As the months and years go by, you see less of them. But they still pop in for a visit on the holidays, birthdays, anniversaries and for any milestones which you pass in life. Sadness and Longing never leave the neighbourhood.

It's been two years since my dear, sweet mother left this earth. Everytime I think about it, I still cry. Talking about it is difficult. Everytime I try, the emotions well up inside me and it feels as though my chest will explode.

Mommy and I. Christmas 2008

I'm not alone in this. I am (un)fortunate to have beloved friends and family who are also members of the DMC (Dead Mothers Club). People say the loss gets better with time. But is that possible when your mother is prematurely ripped from your life? One of my dear friends still tears up whilst talking about her special mom - and she's spent half her life without her. It doesn't get easier, you just exist in the fact that "this is how it is". It sucks.

Me and my mommy

 Whilst packing up my old life to start my new life, I came across a poem I had written for my high school year book. I was 15. The poem was entitled "My Mother the Wizard of Oz" (yes, I was obsessed even then!)

The poem is about the death of a mother and how this event puts out a light in her daughter's life. Her world, the Emerald city has lost its magic and its sparkle, because her mother, the Wizard, no longer lives there.  She has gone to a better place, somewhere over the rainbow.... I love the smell of dramatic irony in the morning!

My mother was a loving, caring and beautiful woman. She was the kindest person to ever walk this planet. Those who were lucky enough to know her would agree.

She loved life. She loved her family and friends.

Mommy and her sister, Christine. My lovely auntie.

Mommy, Auntie and the cousins: Kathleen and Anne

The Girls: Auntie Christine, my beautiful Nan and Mommy

She had a wicked sense of humour and an infectious laugh. She was a fighter.

If I could be half as good as my mother, then I know I've done her proud.

My mom and I: The last Christmas, 2009.

Now on the second anniversary of my mom's death, I can't believe all the things that have happened in my life, and in the world. Has she missed them all? 

A small part of me wants to believe that our loved ones never really leave us. That there is still a little part of them attached to this Earth. Attached to us. This is probably the only thought that holds all my pieces together. "Somewhere (over the rainbow). She knows."

The thought does help to mask the anger and self-pity I feel on a daily basis, but it doesn't make it better. It doesn't fix the problem. Nothing will.

"Mommy didn't make it." Those words will be burned on my brain for all eternity. 

"Mommy". When she dies, that word is stolen from you forever.

xxx