Originally posted on A Residence blog – comments have not been carried over
After I posted that my mum was going into a hospice I recieved so many words of support, here and in my offline life, all of them perfect in their own way, despite people’s pleas that they didn’t know what to say. Thank you.
My amazing mum died in the hospice on Thursday 27th January 2011. She was peaceful and we were with her. The hospice was amazing, mum’s care was fantastic, but they also care for relatives too. It doesn’t make it less sad, but it makes it calmer.
I could write a million blog posts on the experiences of the last few weeks, one will never do it justice.
My mum was amazing and inspirational. She was so thoughtful, so interested in everyone she met. She was so positive despite cancer. She taught me a million and one things which I’ve been scribbling down furiously.
My friend sent me this Banksy as a card, its the image my parents also sent me for my birthday card last year (cool parents huh?) It reminded me my mum used to read to me from a book about a French boy with a magic red ballon. It’s a book based on a film from her child hood. I read it to her last week. At the end the little boy floats off in a bunch of ballons.
I wish I could give the four year old this image of Gran drifting away in a bunch of ballons, but I read up and everything points to honesty. We read Goodbye Mousie and Always and Forever. Miss L is stunning us all with her understanding and sensitivity. I’m not sure about taking her to the funeral (a humanist ceremony) but I know she needs something. I would love to hear about any experiences with this age group.
One of the things my mum taught me was the importance of rites of passage, that I could create my own ceremonies and rituals if I wanted. I didn’t want to go to my PGCE degree ceremony after feeling like part of a herd of cattle at my first degree ceremony. Instead we walked on Devil’s Dyke and she made me a daisy chain headdress and told me how proud she was. Little things like that keep popping into my head, reminding me what an absolutely amazing woman she was.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart,and you shall see that in truth you are weeping
for that which has been your delight.Kahil Gibran