Four months on.

I just looked up from my work and noticed the date. Four months ago today, my Mum passed away.

It was quite sudden, less than a full week after an initial prognosis. None of us were prepared for it. We weren't in the hospital with her when it happened.

Everything since then has been a collection of firsts. First Easter without her. First Mother's Day without her. First visit home without her. First game of Kismet without her. First summer without her.

So many things I have always done on a regular basis, little things that bring me joy, seem so trivial now. They were trivial before of course, but it didn't bother me. Now I think sure, I could do that, but what would be the point?

Every day - EVERY day - I see something, or hear something, that makes me think 'oh I should ask Mum...' before I remember. And I've stopped having breakdowns every time that happens. It's not exactly that I've forgotten she's gone, more that I've had a constant instinct my entire life to share things with her, ask her opinion on things, make her laugh. And that hasn't gone away. It just takes me a moment to remember.

And then there are moments, like just now, when I've had to close the door and put a 'do not disturb' sign out because I couldn't control the sorrow and the tears. (I wish I wasn't such an ugly crier, because I'm going to have to open this door soon.)

I've discovered, since that day, exactly how weak and how strong I can be. Dad has shared stories with me that I hadn't know before that have helped me to know her even better. Relationships with family and friends have been strengthened in most cases, strained in a few others. With some assistance I have made a start at learning to live with this giant hole in my life that will never be filled.

I think of the last words my Father and I both said to her - I love you - and I have to hope they gave her comfort in her final moments.

And I'm so glad for any of you who got to have her in your lives, no matter how briefly.