I know I haven’t posted for a while, folks, but I’m afraid my world has been turned upside down and pulled inside out and I feel like my heart has been too. I went to bed on Sunday 30th of March content after a pleasant late afternoon chatting to friends over drinks in my favoured haunt of the Caley Sample Room. And in the small, dark hours of the following morning a phone call, a sinking feeling because no-one phones at 3am for good news. Stagger out of bed, grab phone, it’s my dad. It’s my dad more disraught than I’ve ever known him and through tears he’s telling me we just lost my mum. I don’t understand what’s going on – I’m half asleep, mum wasn’t in the pink but nothing serious that we knew of, what’s going on, what does he mean. I’m still in shock shortly after as my cousin and uncle arrive to take me home to Glasgow, driving through the dark and I’m praying please let this be a bad dream, please let me wake up, please let me wake up, please let me wake up. It wasn’t. We just buried my beautiful, warm, loving mother a couple of days ago and I feel like someone’s ripped a chunk of my soul out.
I came home to Edinburgh today for the first time in over a week and when I checked my emails there was one from my mum, sent on that Sunday, which I hadn’t seen because I had been out all day and because I never checked the following day because I was sitting back in Glasgow in shock with my dad wondering how this had happened to us so shockingly suddenly and why was it happening to us. She just got online a few weeks ago and was so proud about emailing the relatives in Canada and elsewhere. It was just one, short line, asking how I was and telling me her and dad had just booked their summer holidays – in fact there are two new cases they bought on Saturday lying unused in my room back home. It finishes ‘see you Wednesday’ – they were coming through to visit their wee boy and drop off his Easter egg. I didn’t get to see her. Instead I saw her in the hospital and the spark that made her my mum was gone from her. And its not bloody fair, she was 61, her and dad retired only a year and I want to scream at the world for taking her from us. I wanted her to get up so badly, I touched her beautiful red hair and kissed her and she didn’t get up and we had to leave her in that cold place. It feels like we’ve lived a year in the last nine or ten days, so damned hard and more than anything I need a cuddle from my mum and I can’t have it and that’s breaking my heart. I can’t write anymore just now, its too raw and everytime I think I’m getting a grip something else will set me off again, I feel like my heart’s made of glass. I wanted to write, to let some of it out but its just too hard right now.