Right from the start, I knew this day had to come. The day of Mum’s funeral.
We planned it all out. She paid it off and told us what she wanted. We knew it had to come. So why does it feel so surreal?
I’m up early, already showered and dressed, applying make up and doing my nails, making myself presentable for her final send off. When will it start to feel real?
i imagined what this exact day would be like – what I would say, how I would feel. I even had counselling in the hope of preparing myself for this day, but I should have known I could never be fully prepared. We did our best.
But after today, Mum really will be no more, not even an empty shell of a body. That’s what I’m scared of, right now. The curtains closing and that being it, my last connection to her, gone. After that, she is only memory.
I wish we could have stopped this. I wish none of this had happened. I wish there was a cure. I wish I didn’t have to live the rest of my life without her.
I just want my mum.