I went to see Mum in the chapel of rest today. The MND has left her, but it’s taken her with it. We always knew this day would come, but seeing her in her coffin, in the clothes I ironed, the glasses I cleaned and the blanket she knotted for my sister, it finally hit home. She’s gone. I’ll never see her again.
I said goodbye and told her I love her, and then I closed the door and left her to rest. As I walked away I realised I have no idea what to do now.
I once wrote that Mum was making preparations for her death, and she did. Since we found out that she’d slipped away so suddenly, we’ve been on autopilot, following out her wishes to the letter, making sure the last thing we ever do for her is done right.
But with everything pretty much in place, and still another two weeks before the funeral, what now? For the past year and a half, Mum has been in the centre of everything – my life has revolved around her. It affected every part of my life, and now there’s a gaping hole where all that worry, anxiety, fear, stress and love should be. It’s just empty.
I know there are things I have to look forward to. I have a wedding still to plan, and I want to train to be an Association Visitor for the MNDA. Eventually I will return to work, life will carry on. I’ll miss her every day, but every day has to come and go.
I know I’ll never stop campaigning, fundraising, volunteering, supporting the MND community that supported her.
Still, ten days after her death, I feel like I’m in limbo. I miss her so much already. I close my eyes and wish that none of this had ever happened, more fervently than I have ever wished for anything else. I just want the pain to fade. I want to think of her without crying. I want to hear her voice.
What do I do now?