Tuesday, 24 August 2010


I miss my Mum.  She died in March 2009.  She was diagnosed with breast cancer 15 years previously which she fought and we thought she had won.  Sadly it had spread to her bones, but again she fought and was beating it.  Finally it spread to her liver, nothing she could do about that, but she fought and fought until it finally beat her.

We never had that close mother/daughter relationship that you read about in the magazines and see on the adverts.  We never did girlie things together like shopping or lunch.  In fact, most of the time we argued and disagreed and sniped at each other.  But ultimately we loved each other.

I was very ill and in hospital in 2006 and the only thing I wanted was my Mum.  She came and everything was alright again.  A cuddle from her and everything was going to be OK.

I miss the fact that she isn't here just as I've become a mother.  Yes, she met her grand-daughter, but died when she was just 16 months old.  Little Pink can't really remember Grandma - yes, she can recognise her from a photo, but she can't remember her as a person.  And I miss not being able to talk to Mum about how willful and stubborn Little Pink is, and how she's driving me to distraction even though or because I love her to bits.  I can't tell Mum that I understand now - I understand why she shouted at me or stopped me from doing things.  Why she worried over the little things.  I know now, because I am a mother too.

I miss that she won't see our new house, even though she never did understand why I, born and brought up in a suburb of Leeds, wanted to live in the countryside.  I won't be able to hear her being critical that our nearest neighbour will be over a mile away and that we will have a septic tank.  And the fact that I want to keep chickens again, and perhaps a donkey or two, well............!

I just miss her.  Why tonight, I don't know?  It's another day tomorrow and the hurt will be in the background again, but it will always be there, I will always miss her, and I will always love her.

God bless you Mum.


  1. Oh my! I know that feeling x

  2. Huge huge hugs coming your way... x x x x

  3. I feel the same about my dad, being a mother highlighted how much I missed him and still do every single day. I had my double mastectomy so I can grow old with my boys

  4. That's the other worry, and I'm burying my head in the sand about it at the moment. Her mother died of metastatic breast cancer too, so obviously it's in the family. I know that she was so worried that I would get it in the future - far more worried about that than her own illness. I know I need to get checked out, but quite frankly I'm terrified.

  5. Hi
    Thanks for following LulaPie. The anonymous comment last night was me. Couldn't log in as me…apparently I didn't exist last night!! Bloody computers.
    Your Mum would be telling you YOU MUST get checked out. Be brave and do it for her x

  6. Ooh, it would be lovely not to "exist" sometimes!!

    Thank you. xxx

  7. Virtual hugcoming your way. x